I'm Heading Straight For You
by iloveyoucalzona
Summary: Reconciliation possibilities for our girls, inspired by each song on Adele's new CD. Each chapter is an individual one-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Reconciliation #1: Adele Edition.**

 **Sweetest Devotion.**

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 **Welp, this was supposed to take an hour. It took six. Let me know what you think!**

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As Arizona scrubbed out of surgery, she felt a sense of giddiness consume her. She had not only kicked ass at her unparalleled surgery, but she had done so with half the hospital staff – including Callie – willfully watching from the gallery upstairs.

She was practically ripping at the seams with excitement. It felt incredible to prove to herself yet again just how good of a doctor she was, and just how good her decision had been to follow in Nicole Herman's footsteps.

Taking the fellowship hadn't been an easy decision, and Arizona hadn't been sure it was the right decision at first, but in retrospect, she was certain that it had been. Because, in that moment, she knew for certain that if she hadn't pursued that second specialty, the woman and fetus she had just saved would have been dead in a few short weeks. And she – her hands – had been what had saved them.

And, as if that wasn't enough on its own, the woman Arizona loved had opted to _watch_ her surgery. Callie had been in the gallery, front and center, watching her every move. Arizona had locked eyes with her, and Callie had smiled her encouragement. And – in that moment – everything had been the way it was meant to be.

The day had filled Arizona with a sense of fearlessness. She felt as if she could do anything. She felt as if she could make all her dreams come true, if she only tried.

So, with that courage in mind, she called a sitter to spend the evening with Sofia and headed towards the Ortho ward.

She'd had a good day, and the only way she really wanted to celebrate was with Callie. So, she planned to ask Callie to join her at Joe's for a few drinks – not as a date, but just to talk.

She supposed she _could_ have asked Callie out on a date, since her ex-wife was no longer dating the so called "perfect, pretty" resident, but Arizona didn't want to do that. She wanted Callie, but she didn't want to start over with her. She already _knew_ Callie, and Callie already _knew_ her, and Arizona only wanted to inform her ex-wife of her desires. She wanted to tell Callie what she wanted.

Which, ultimately, was _her_.

So, overcome with a surgical high, she practically skipped down the hallway towards the brunette, who was squinting at the overcrowded OR board. "Hi," she chirped.

Callie looked up, a genuine smile forming on her lips. "Hey, you. You were incredible today."

Arizona grinned, her cheeks flushing pink. "Thank you. It surprised me that you were there."

Callie shrugged self-consciously. "I figured I could learn something."

"Did you?"

That time, Callie blushed. "Yeah," she exhaled. "That you're an even better doctor than I thought."

And that was the truth. She had always admired Arizona's obvious skill, care, and precision in surgery, but she had never been as amazed as she was that day. The fact that her ex-wife had operated on and saved the life of a baby that had yet to even be born was something she still couldn't entirely believe. It was beyond skill or talent. It was magic.

Callie had never been so proud to have gotten the chance to love Arizona – and to love Arizona indefinitely – as she was that day. Even though it sometimes still hurt her heart that she and her ex-wife'd had different priorities at the time of their split, she knew that day that Arizona had made the right choice to pursue a second specialty. She knew that day that Arizona was meant to save babies. She was good at it. She was saving lives of beings who weren't even yet born. She was fighting off death. Like God. Or Happy Potter. She was changing the world, and Callie was consumed with love and respect for her.

Arizona's smile grew impossibly wider, her dimples deepening in her cheeks. She all but sang, "Thanks."

Callie chuckled, melting at the feet of the woman standing in front of her. Just like always. "You're going to celebrate tonight, right? Do you want Sofia to stay with me for another night?"

Arizona shook her head. "Actually…" she nervously began. "I was hoping to celebrate with you."

Callie's eyes bulged. That had not been what she'd expected to hear. She and Arizona hadn't spent time together one-on-one…ever. Not as exes, anyway. "Just me?"

Arizona chewed on her bottom lip as she nodded. "Yeah," she affirmed. "We could go to Joe's. Catch up." Even as she worked to keep her voice calm and casual, she felt her heart hammering in her chest. She knew that – even despite the good day – there was a very real chance that Callie would say no to her request. In fact, there was a very real chance that Callie would say _Helllll no._

She held her breath, nearly passing out from hypoxia as she waited for Callie's response.

Finally, Callie gave in. How could she not? Even though she and Arizona weren't together – even though they wanted different things and _couldn't_ be together – Callie was eager to spend time with her. To know her still. She'd be crazy not to want that. "Sure," she agreed. "I'm off in half an hour. Meet in the lobby?"

Taken aback by Callie's easy acceptance to her invitation, Arizona's eyebrows shot up. "Oh! Okay. Sounds great."

"Great," Callie smiled, feeling her stomach flutter with anticipation. The thought of actually seeing and talking to Arizona about more than work and Sofia was positively thrilling. It terrified her, sure, but it thrilled her even more. Just thinking about Arizona – the woman she had loved and would _always_ love – made her smile so hard her face hurt. Most of the time, anyway. It made her smile whenever she wasn't hurting over how they had regrettably ended up: apart from one another, growing and finding happiness separately.

Half an hour later, Callie found Arizona in the lobby. She looked…Wow. Good. Better than good. Better than better than good. She was wearing a low-cut red blouse, black dress pants, and boots.

She looked ready for a date. And, as Callie looked down at her own outfit, she realized that so did she. In fact, she had spent more time than she cared to admit applying eyeliner and lipstick. And she knew that she had applied several more-than-generous drops of perfume to her every pulse point.

"Hi," she breathed, approaching the blonde.

Arizona turned towards her voice, and she felt her body grow hot as darkened blue eyes took in every inch of her.

Arizona licked her lips. "Hi," she whispered in return.

"Should we go?" Callie hitched her head towards the door. "I'll buy you as many drinks as you want."

Arizona rolled her eyes, and they began walking towards the exit, side-by-side. "I'm the one who invited _you_. That means I do the buying."

Callie offered her a tender smile. "Please," she scoffed. "You made medical history today. At least let me wiggle my way into your world a little by providing the white wine."

Arizona offered a poignant little smirk, then shook her head.

It was such a small action that – if Callie hadn't been carefully watching the blonde's face – she would have missed it. "What?"

Arizona shook her head more definitively. "It's nothing." She needed a little liquid courage in her before she could be honest with the woman she loved.

Callie's eyes remained trained on her face, however, and – soon – Arizona felt compelled to admit the truth. At least a little bit of it. She huffed, then admitted, "You could be a lot more than the woman who provides me with a celebratory drink, you know." Callie could provide her with everything, and she could provide _Callie_ with everything. If they would only allow each other.

Brown eyes widened in surprise. What had Arizona meant by _that_? Callie had intended to ask, but the potential was squandered when they walked into Joe's and were immediately overpowered with the sound of loud, animated chatter. "Where did you want to sit?" she asked instead.

Looking around her, Arizona made a face. It was crowded. She should have expected that – it was a Friday, after all – but still, it was disappointing. There weren't any booths available – there were only a few small tables left and two open stools at the bar. "Over there?" she suggested, nodding towards the bar.

Callie nodded, and the two women made their way towards the area they knew well. They knew the venue well, in general, really. It was where they'd had their first encounter. It was where they'd ended up on countless date nights. It was where they'd always gone to celebrate and to mourn, together and apart.

As they sat down, Callie offered the anonymous bartender a dazzling smile. "A glass of pinot noir, please." She looked towards Arizona, silently asking for permission. "And a glass of…"

Arizona nodded. Callie knew what she liked.

"Sauvignon blanc," Callie finished. "Thank you." Then, she turned back towards Arizona, giving the woman her full attention.

Arizona offered Callie a nervous smile. _What now?_ she thought. She hadn't planned anything after inviting Callie out. Sure, there was something she wanted to say – something she _needed_ to say – but she didn't know how to get there. Her truth was too big to just blurt out.

"So," Callie prompted once two wine glasses were set before them. "Should we toast?" She held up her glass. "To you and your mastery?"

Even despite her anxiety, Arizona couldn't help but throw her head back and laugh. Like, come on. She was a confident woman, sure, but there was no way she was going to toast herself and her "mastery" of fetal surgery. That would cross the line into hubris.

Callie felt a smile grow on her face as she listened to her ex-wife's musical, carefree laughter. "Well?" she prompted.

Forcing herself to sober up, Arizona shook her head. "Nuh-uh," she argued. "We are _not_ toasting to only me."

Callie pouted out her lower lip. "To what, then?"

Arizona shrugged. "To growth. To healing. To us."

Callie's eyes twinkled. Welp. She couldn't argue with a toast as sweet as that. "Cheers," she whispered, pushing her glass towards Arizona's.

"Cheers," Arizona countered, clinking her wine glass against Callie's and feeling the vibration flow through her.

They weren't quite touching, but they were close. Their glasses had touched. And they were touching their glasses that had touched each other. Which was almost touching. They were close. So close.

Close, but not close enough.

Arizona took a long gulp of wine, relishing in the way the cold liquid managed to warm her every limb. She swore she could feel the alcohol pulse through her prosthesis, too. And, even acknowledging that the warm feeling was only psychological, it seemed to give her courage.

She released a long breath in preparation, then prompted, "Callie?"

Callie's eyes shot up to Arizona's, and she gulped hard. The time had come, she knew. Arizona was going to talk about something. To really talk. About something real. About something more than Sofia, or surgery, or hospital gossip.

Callie waited.

"I'm happy to just sit here and just have a drink with you," Arizona assured her. "But, also, if you're willing to hear it, there's something I want to say."

Slowly, Callie nodded. "I figured." She paused, then decided, "I want to hear it."

Arizona anxiously bit her lip. She certainly didn't offer up any information. "I'm not sure you do," she admitted. In fact, what she wanted to say would likely send Callie running for the door.

"Are you leaving?" Callie guessed, her face bleaching white at the thought. It was a plausible possibility. Arizona was _good_. She was one of the best surgeons Callie had ever met. Hospitals anywhere in the world would love having her. Callie knew that.

"What?" Arizona gawked. "Callie, no! Where would I go?"

"I don't know!" Callie defended. "Boston, Malawi, Spain, Switzer-"

Arizona's eyes bulged. "No!" She had never even considered leaving Grey-Sloan, let alone the _country_. She couldn't leave Sofia, and even though she could _technically_ leave Callie, she _couldn't_. She couldn't. She wouldn't survive. She couldn't be so far apart from her. Even given the fact that they seemed far apart, already. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh," Callie sighed, a little sheepishly. "Okay."

"Okay," Arizona exhaled, thankful that Callie seemed to have stopped her skittish rambling. She refocused on her objective. "So, I want to say something. And I want you to listen without saying I'm crazy or walking out."

Callie swallowed. Hard. She'd heard those words before. Almost. They'd made her feel sick to her stomach then, and they had the same effect on her in that moment. "O…kay," she offered unsteadily. She was nervous, but she wasn't going anywhere. She wasn't going to bail. It was far too late for that.

Arizona absentmindedly traced the condensation line on her glass then finally looked up and into curious brown eyes. She asserted: "I want to have a baby."

Her heart pounded. Once, twice, three times.

Pound.

Pound.

Pound.

That was all she could hear. Not the small talk around her. Only her rhythmic heartbeat and Callie's deafening silence.

Bravely, she continued: "With you. I want to have another baby with _you_."

"You…" Callie paused, unable to make words. "But we…" She shook her head, trying to make sense of Arizona's statement. At last, she surrendered, "I don't get it."

"You wanted a baby," Arizona clarified. "Well, we both did. Before the divorce. But I wanted the fellowship, too. And it just…" She shrugged helplessly. "It wasn't right. And I wasn't ready then. But I'm ready now."

"Ready to…" Callie's eyes shifted. "Have a baby? With _me_?"

"Yes," Arizona hissed assertively.

Callie was still in shock. What was Arizona saying? That she wanted her back?

"Callie, _please_ ," Arizona pleaded, her face falling when Callie still didn't offer a response. "Is it really so crazy? Thinking that we could be together?"

" _No_ ," Callie argued, not wanting her ex-wife to think that was what she was thinking. It wasn't crazy at all. She had changed. She had changed, she had grown, she had healed. And so had Arizona.

And, yet, even while all the hurts of their pasts had lessened, their love for one another had only grown stronger.

And their devotion to one another – and to one another's wants and desires – was still there.

 _Is it really so crazy?_ No. It wasn't crazy in the slightest.

"It's just…" She paused, then held up her hands, promising, "I'm not walking out. I'm just….processing."

Silently, Arizona nodded. She knew better than anyone that processing time was vital.

"You want to have a baby." Callie repeated a minute later. "With me."

"Yes. If you still do."

Callie expelled a long breath. "I don't…" she paused, attempting to articulate her statement. "I don't even know how much I wanted a baby, before. I just...wanted you to stay. I knew you weren't happy – that we weren't happy – and I, somewhat selfishly, wanted something to draw us closer."

"That makes sense." Callie's response provided Arizona with new, unexpected information, but what she'd said was understandable. Arizona had been equally desperate to keep their marriage intact. So much so that she had been blind to how convoluted it had become, forcing Callie to break the cycle in the end.

"But," Arizona countered. "We're not there anymore. A baby won't make me stay, because I'm not going anywhere, regardless. And a baby won't cause one of us to bend or break. Not anymore. I'd love to have a baby with you, Calliope, but if that's not something you want…" She shrugged. "I'll still want you. All of you. I still want to spend the rest of my life with you. Whether that means growing our family or not."

Callie's breath hitched. She felt her heart take off in her chest. She felt her stomach begin to bubble. "You do?"

Arizona nodded emphatically, ensuring that Callie would _hear_ her. Loud and clear. "As it turns out, I can live without ten kids. I can even live without you – we can both live with without each other. But I don't want to, anymore. I've had to for long enough. And I'm _tired_ , Callie."

Callie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Tired? "Tired of what?"

"Of not being to love you the way I could be," Arizona responded simply. "Of not being able to kiss you, or come home to you, or remind you of how miraculous you are."

"You are," Callie breathed. " _Miraculous_ ," she finished reverently. "And I'm tired, too. I'm tired of living without you."

Arizona exhaled a shuddering breath, relieved to hear the words she'd ached for. Relieved to hear that she wasn't alone - that it wasn't just her - that Callie still loved her, too.

"And I don't want to do it, anymore," Callie continued. "I want you, and I want to have a baby with you – planned, this time – but I want you regardless. I want you now. I want us to make each other happy, the way we should have before. The way we're meant to."

She was devoted to creating a whole, beautiful, real, flawed, and perfect life with Arizona. She was devoted to creating the life she had always been certain they would share.

And Arizona was devoted to the very same thing.

"Okay," Arizona decided, after a silent, comfortable moment passed between. "So...we're together."

Callie offered a small shrug and a sly smile. "I guess so. Because I love you, and you love me, and we want the same thing."

"Each other," Arizona breathed. Their priorities were in line. To love each other. Immeasurably and indefinitely.

Callie's smile expanded, and she leaned forward – consuming Arizona's senses. As if in slow motion, she leaned towards a milk face and pink lips, prepared to initiate the first kiss of many.

Before Arizona could feel those gorgeous, full lips on her own, Callie pulled back, unknowingly leaving her tortured and waiting. She smirked. "Isn't it kind of ironic? That this is where we first met, and it's where we're...meeting again?"

No one had ever been able to roll her eyes so affectionately. "Yes, Calliope," she sassed. "It's ironic." Once again, her eyes flickered to those plump lips, and she leaned forward. With a voice that was both demanding and breathy with love and desire, she insisted, "Now kiss me."

So Callie kissed her. They kissed each other, pouring out their love. Sweetly, devotedly, reverently, deeply, passionately, lovingly.

It was the sweetest devotion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Reconciliation #2: Adele Edition.**

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 **I Miss You.**

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Sex between Callie and Arizona had always been an art form. It was an erotic dance. A rhythm, a movement, a ballad of moans. It had always been both enchanting and intoxicating.

Callie generously reminded Arizona of just how all-consuming she could be.

Callie. Her smell. Her shape. Her soulful eyes, her silky hair, her confident stance.

It was a chemical attraction. It was physical. Mental. Emotional. All thingal.

Every beat of Arizona's heart was Callie's. Every one of her breaths was Callie's.

Callie. With her eyes so dark that Arizona was pulled into the Earth's core. With her eyes so dark that Arizona was flung into space.

She felt two naked breasts against her back, nimble fingers threading through her hair, a torturously sensual hand re-exploring her every curve.

Those hands cupping her breasts, touching her lips, feeling her hair, caressing her taut abdomen, and stroking her thighs with curiosity and anticipation.

Arizona. Throwing her arms around Callie, desperately latching her lips onto a welcoming breast, a strong neck, and plump lips. But never, ever holding hands.

Who was her touch for? For Callie, certainly. But whose was Callie's for? For Arizona?

The rhythm, the movement, the ballad of moans, the momentum towards one another.

Callie. Setting a forest ablaze in Arizona's body, in her mind, and in her heart.

Callie curved towards her, and they fit together perfectly. They each knew when to arch and when to bend. They knew the pace of the song. They knew the style of dance. They remembered the choreography. And they improvised. They knew each other's desires, exactly what they liked, exactly what drove them to the edge.

Arizona. Wrapping herself against Callie. Feeling their breasts meld together. Feeling Callie's curves complement her own.

Each touch enhanced Arizona's craving. She was voracious, and nothing could fill her but the taste of caramel. She was voracious, and she felt herself feasting on Callie's eyes, ears, and hands. On the sight, sound, and feel of her. Arizona delighted in touching her. She never wanted to stop.

Her mind hungered for more. For conversations. For breakfasts. For late nights out and boring nights in. For not sleeping at all and sleeping at seven p.m., making cocoons out of only each other.

Callie. Using those capable fingers and reveling in Arizona's touch, teasing her with the purest communication, sending signals straight to her heart.

Callie. Touching Arizona back. Callie. Electric.

Arizona. Feeling the movement of Callie's lips, the warmth of her mouth, her capable tongue. Feeling the wetness, on her and in her. Feeling just how much Callie needed her, and just how much she responded to her touch.

Callie. Tasting Arizona's hunger for her. Devouring her in return. Feeling that sense of emptiness when she pulled her mouth away, gasping for much-needed air.

Callie. Caressing her, exploring her, soaking up every part of her. Wanting to be passive and wanting to dominate.

Arizona. Shuddering at the intensity. Shuddering at Callie's mouth on her. Shuddering at Callie's warm wetness on her, at knowing that _she_ caused it. Basking in the thrill of it.

Arizona. Feeling every limb become pain-free. Feeling Callie worship her. Knowing she should stop, knowing she should put a stop to it to avoid inevitable pain, but her body refusing to move away.

Callie. Taking control and then relinquishing it. Taking it back and then giving it back again. Feeling Arizona's nipples standing up to her touch. Sucking hard on each breast. Feeling Arizona arching towards her. Offering more. Begging for her to take.

Arizona. Reveling in pure sensation.

Sucking Callie. Touching Callie. Putting on more pressure, then more. Letting her wandering tongue explore. Smiling at the thrust of tanned hips. Lingering at each sweet spot that always used to drive her crazy.

Callie. Begging for more. Demanding. Groaning at the slick wetness rubbing against her, at her, on her, in her.

Moving onto her, moving into her, moving against her. Never stilling her movements for long enough to think.

Thrusting against Arizona. Knowing exactly what she liked.

The rhythm, the movement, the ballad of moans, the momentum towards one another, the chaos and the order.

Arizona. Feeling her clitoris pound, her ears ring, her body vibrate. Wanting more. Listening to Callie's sounds of desire excite her further.

Sucking, stroking. Sucking, stroking.

Rubbing, tugging, gyrating, coming.

Callie. Wild with desire. Wild with…

Satiation.

Callie. Teasing and tantalizing. Memorizing every minute detail, just in case it was the last time.

Arizona. Feeling her desire explode. Murmuring soft words – neither woman knowing what.

Arizona. Feeling pleasure beyond thought. Feeling herself surrender to it. Moaning. Her body convulsing. Getting the urge to both sing and sob.

Callie. Rubbing against her, over and over.

Arizona. Matching her rhythm.

Callie. Quickening her cadence. Crying out. Falling against Arizona's body.

Arizona: following. Only seconds behind.

Callie. Turning over. Pressing her skin against Arizona's whole body. Cradling her. Turning to liquid, melting against her. Wrapping an arm around her stomach.

Arizona. Falling into Callie's gravity.

Arizona. Thinking. Realizing.

Turning to stone.

"Don't," Arizona pleaded. It was so quiet, that Callie wasn't entirely certain she'd heard correctly.

Callie positioned her elbow on the on-call room's thin pillow, supporting her head in her hand. Hesitantly, she lifted her other hand from silky white skin. "What?"

Arizona closed her eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to escape. All she wanted was for Callie to pull her in, to hold her tight, to not let go. But the desire was futile.

Callie had wanted to have sex with her. Nothing more. So Arizona couldn't allow for the intimacy that came after. She couldn't lie with Callie, feeling her strong arms surround her.

It was too much. The way her ex-wife seemed to seep into her every groove. And how, in reality, they were living worlds apart. It was too much. And, if Arizona felt Callie envelop her in her arms one more time, it would take another two years to recover. It would take a lifetime to forget the perfectly flawless feeling.

It would only make things harder.

Callie's eyes remained fixed on Arizona's face, stubbornly waiting for more words.

Arizona exhaled a long breath, exhaling, "Just…don't." She couldn't bear Callie cradling her body, molding against her. Not when she was so desperate for her.

Callie knit her eyebrows together, forcing Arizona to face her. "Don't what?"

Wet blue eyes met cautious browns. And with the softest, most terrified, most vulnerable voice, Arizona pleaded, "Don't do this. Don't hold me. _Please_."

Callie felt her stomach drop. She felt a lump form in her throat. Was she really so awful? Had the sex really been so unbearably bad for Arizona? Because, for Callie, it had been incredible.

"Why?" she courageously pressed, wanting to hear Arizona's thoughts. Wanting to avoid misunderstanding, like those that had so often plagued them in the past.

A hopeless tear cascaded down a pink cheek. Again, barely audibly, she confessed, "It'll just make me want you more." Arizona wanted every single piece of her. "And miss you," she continued. Arizona missed Callie constantly. Morning, noon, and night. When she turned on the lights in the morning and when they went out at night.

She ached for Callie to touch her. Not the way she had minutes before – not with an aim at sex – but intimately. Gently. Purely. Holding her for the sake of holding her and nothing more.

And, at the same time, she acknowledged that she didn't want to be touched. She didn't want to be touched because she craved it too much.

She knew that she might shatter without it. She might shatter with it, too.

Either way, Callie's arms around her would bring such torture later on, when they snaked off her body, ready to wrap around some other man or woman.

It would be torturous when Callie left. Again.

Finally, having processed Arizona's words – having understood them – Callie worked up the strength to reply. "It's okay to miss me."

"No, it's not," Arizona choked out, attempting to laugh but feeling her voice catch with a sob. "It's…not. Okay," she defended between wet breaths.

"It _is_ ," Callie insisted. "I want you to want me. Because I want you." All she wanted was for Arizona to pull her in, to hold her tight, to not let go. All she did was miss Arizona. And she wanted was for Arizona to miss and want her, too.

Arizona responded to those words. She turned to face Callie, feeling her naked breasts brush against those of the woman she loved. She knit her eyebrows together, watching Callie intently.

Bravely, Callie continued. "I know this was just a…hookup. I mean, exes slip up all the time. But I don't want this to be a slip up between us. I want more. I want _you_."

Arizona's eyes bulged. Those hadn't been the words she'd been expecting. She'd thought she'd been alone in the missing and the wanting. And the pining. She'd thought Callie had moved on, while she herself had stayed in love. She'd thought Callie had been done. She'd thought Callie had wanted her for a booty call – nothing more.

"I'm tired of living worlds apart. I miss you, Arizona. And as good as this was," she motioned to their naked bodies. "It'd be better if we got everything else, too. It'd be better if I got to love you the way I want to. With all of me. All the time."

"Me, too," Arizona whispered in relief, moving in closer. Burrowing herself in Callie's safety. Finding safety in her, again. "I already love you with all of me. I never stopped. But I want to be able to tell you."

"You can," Callie breathed, bringing her hand up to tuck a lock of blonde hair behind Arizona's ear.

"We've changed, Callie." It was true. They had.

"I'm glad we did," Callie countered. "I learned a lot. About love." Her thumb gently stroked a soft cheek. "About how to love you better. This time."

Arizona nodded, hesitantly – but also, somehow, instinctually – bringing her hand to trail down Callie's waist.

Arizona: "I want this to be the _last_ time."

Callie: "It will be. No one has me like you do."

"I'm yours."

* * *

 **Please let me know what you think! And if I should write more!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Reconciliation #3: Adele Edition.**

* * *

 **Remedy.**

* * *

 **If you would be so kind, please let me know what you think! Worked hard on this one for you!**

* * *

"Hey!" Callie prompted, hurrying towards Alex. "Have you seen Arizona today? How is she?"

Alex looked up from his iPad, offering Callie a head-nod in greeting. "Yeah, we just kicked ass on a surgery. Then she said she was tired and was going to take a nap."

Callie rushed off, towards the on-call room she knew her ex-wife liked best. It had been _their_ room once, but no more.

And, well, more than a small part of her wished it still were. Even more than that, she wished that Arizona were hers again, and that she were Arizona's. She wished for another chance, to have what they had always wanted: a lifetime together.

A lot had come between them. Enough that it'd all made Callie hate their life together. She had been desperate, to find a way out of her hard, hard world and finally breathe. And – when she'd ended the vicious cycle of pain between her and Arizona – she had finally gotten the chance to do so. To breathe. To let her scars heal.

Initiating the divorce between her and Arizona had been the hardest thing she'd ever done. Out of all the painful experiences Callie had endured, it had by far been the worst – and that was saying a lot.

She had been miserable. Miserable. And, then, she'd focused on her career. And, then, she'd attempted to move on. And, then, through all that, her wounds had healed.

And so had Arizona's. Callie could see that. All the pain that the plane crash and its aftermath had caused had faded to mere scars.

The divorce had made her miserable. Callie knew that. But it had also given her the space to take care of herself – something she needed to do. It had allowed her to become the person she was meant to become: someone who was immeasurably beautiful, confident, brilliant, and deserving of all good things.

Arizona was just special. It was a fact Callie had always known, but lately, it had become particularly clear. Arizona was special. And, not just that, she was special to _Callie_. To Callie, she was _that_ person.

She was the person Callie was in love with. She wasn't the person Callie had first fallen for – not exactly. And Callie knew that, surely, Arizona would continue to change. But Callie loved every part of her, every piece of her, every change in her.

Callie had healed, and so had Arizona. And Callie loved her. Callie remembered how much she loved her. No matter what. Callie's love for her was apparent. It was rampant. And, most of all, it was adaptive. It only continued growing and changing as she and Arizona changed, too.

Even in that moment, even years after their divorce, Callie loved her.

And, because she loved her, she needed to find her. She needed to take care of the woman she loved.

She gave the door three quick, consecutive knocks, then slipped inside, silently shutting the door behind her. She turned towards the bed, and there Arizona was. Watchful. And curled up into a ball. And looking sad. Carefully, she had laid her prosthesis on the floor beside the bed.

"Hey," Callie breathed. She wasn't sure what else to start with. She knew she owed Arizona an explanation for why the hell she was there. She knew she was out of bounds, given how little they'd talked, lately.

She knew she owed Arizona an explanation, but all her thoughts dissipated when she realized she was alone in a room, with only one person right before her eyes: her ex-wife. And, at that, her heart came to life, hammering in her chest, again and again.

"Hi," Arizona breathed. She figured she might have offered Callie an explanation as to why she was curled up into a ball in an on-call room during the middle of the day, but then she realized that Callie had been the one to walk in on _her_. What was she doing there?

"I, um," Callie walked towards one of the small chairs on the side of the room, dragging it towards the bed. She sat down, several feet from Arizona, and pulled out something from her pocket, handing it to her. "I know today's a tough day for you."

With curious eyes, Arizona inspected the inside of the white paper bag. Her lips curled into a smile when she saw what it was: a chocolate frosted old-fashioned donut. Her favorite.

"You remembered."

"Your favorite donut?" Callie asked. She chuckled. "It's pretty hard to forget." Arizona had eaten them often, and by the dozen.

Shyly biting her lip, Arizona shook her head. "No. Tim."

Oh. _Oh_. The anniversary of Tim's death.

Yes, Callie remembered. Of course she remembered. She remembered everything about Arizona. The bad and the good. She bathed in the memories. She savored them.

It was the closest she could come to savoring Arizona herself.

Gently, Callie nodded. "Of course I remembered. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

A little self-consciously, Arizona sat up in bed, wanting to lessen the height difference between them. "I'm okay," she assured her. "I just..." Miserable wet tears began falling from her eyes.

" _What_?" Callie asked. She practically begged the question. She was desperate for an answer. She was desperate to help, somehow. Arizona cried so rarely, and each time she did, it broke Callie's heart.

And she never, ever felt as helpless as she did in that moment. If Arizona were hers – and she Arizona's – she would have wrapped the smaller woman in her arms and held her. They would have cried together.

But Callie couldn't do that. And _that_ …shattered her.

With one hand, Arizona wiped at her eyes, desperately attempting to stop the stubborn flow of tears. She sniffled. "We used to talk about our futures. Timothy, Nick, and me. And…I'm just remembering all the things that I thought I wanted to be. A doctor. A surgeon. Cindy Crawford's wife." She smirked. Then, bravely and honestly, she continued. "I just never envisioned the kind of life I had with you."

In preparation for harsh words, Callie's face hardened. She leaned back in her chair. "I'm sorry, I just-"

" _Wait_ ," Arizona demanded. She licked her lips, attempting to work up the courage to share her truth. "You were the one thing I never saw coming. My life with you was something I never knew I wanted, but something I miss." She paused, sniffling ineffectually. Finally, she choked out, " _Constantly_."

Those words certainly hadn't been what Callie had expected, and she savored them: as if sucking a mango for every drop of nectar it held. Arizona was miserable, and in tears, and - even so - her words were sweet nectar.

"So I'm okay, except I'm 100%, totally, super _not_ okay," Arizona continued, carelessly tossing the bakery bag towards the end of the bed. "Because all I can think about is that the world seems so cruel. Tim wanted to be a colonel and a daddy. He died. Nick wanted to change the world. He died. Mark wanted to have a family with Lexie. _He_ died. And now, here I am, alive but _miserable_ , Callie."

"Arizona…" Callie breathed, infinite compassion in her voice. There was so much she wanted to say. So much she wanted to refute.

"I am," Arizona repeated, her voice decisive. "Not always. But today. Because, here you are, and I'm stuck remembering. I'm remembering when I had everything but couldn't appreciate it. I'm remembering when I had _you_."

Callie attempted to swallow back the lump in her throat. Her vision blurred.

Arizona shrugged again, wanting to lessen the overwhelming emotion that coated the room. "I'll be fine," she assured Callie. "I'll move on like you did. Eventually."

"Don't."

Arizona furrowed her eyebrows. _Don't_ what?

"Please don't," Callie amended. "Don't move on." She exhaled a long breath. "I don't want you to, Arizona. Because I haven't moved on from you."

Arizona waited, blood pounding in her ears and her stomach doing somersaults. What was Callie saying?

Callie moved closer, crossing into Arizona's space as she sat on the bed beside her. She turned to the blonde, blissfully admiring her face. "I love you," she proclaimed. "More than anything. And I can't stand to see you hurting – especially over me. Especially because I miss and want you more than anything in the world, and you don't even know."

Arizona's eyes bulged. "You…"

"I'm in love with you. Now and forever." She let out a little laugh, unable to stop herself at the admittance of the truth. She was in love with Arizona constantly. The love adapted but never abated. It always remained. "And I want to be there when you're hurting. I want to be there…forever. _God_ , Arizona. I want to be there for it all, with you. And I want you to be with _me_."

A slow, tentative, extraordinary smile slowly lit up Arizona's tear-soaked face. "Me, too. All I want is you, Calliope. Whatever a life with you brings us."

She wanted everything with Callie. Everything. The good and the bad. The tears, the laughter, the fights, and the forgiveness. She wanted it all, because just looking at Callie made her feel better. Just hearing her, and smelling her, and having her near felt like medicine for her soul.

Callie readjusted herself, lying down in the bed. She kept a foot of distance between her and Arizona, her back nearly touching the back wall. She didn't want to push the blonde into anything, even after establishing the most incredible thing: they both loved each other. Still. And eternally. They were both _in_ love with each other. And they both wanted a life together.

Arizona turned towards Callie, a question written on her face.

Callie patted the mattress, inviting the woman she loved to lay beside her. "This is a good thing – and, on this day next year, we'll also be able to celebrate our first re-anniversary, or whatever – but today's still a hard day because of Tim. And I really, _really_ want to touch you. So come here."

Arizona didn't need any more convincing than that. She lowered herself onto the bed, turning onto her side to face Callie. She met big, brown, _magical_ eyes that seemed to dance with delight at the sight of her.

She herself wanted to dance with delight at the sight of Callie. She was so in love with her.

Tentatively, she reached up, tracing caramel features with her shaking thumb. "I love you."

A remarkable smile bloomed on Callie's face, and she reached for Arizona. Reverently, she set the palm of her hand over a soft waist, scooting closer.

Her voice was a devout promise: "I love you, too." She pulled Arizona to her, wrapping her arms tightly around the smaller woman.

Eagerly, Arizona returned the favor, holding Callie to her with all the strength she had. Pulling their bodies tight against each other, and feeling their bodies meld, and melt, and merge together. Just as they always had. She inhaled delicious-smelling black hair, and she was certain that she felt Callie breathing in her skin, too. She exhaled a relieved breath, feeling as if she were finally home.

Then, she chuckled. "You're always saving me."

It was true. Callie had given her strength when Wallace had needed surgery. Callie had shielded her from Gary Clark. Callie had saved her life, and Callie had attempted to save her leg. Callie had made all her dreams – dreams she hadn't even known she'd had – come true. She had always saved her, and continued to. She'd made her hurt a little less over Tim. And she'd taken away so much of her pain over her own life. Arizona had been mourning her lost life with Callie, but now, she didn't have to. As it turned out, that life wasn't lost. Not in the slightest.

Callie offered up a genuine chuckle in return, her warm breath setting Arizona's skin on fire and leaving her with goosebumps.

"You saved _me_ ," she argued. "You save me, constantly." Arizona had saved her from self-flagellation in that dirty bar bathroom all those years ago. She had saved her from her father disowning her. She had saved her in the car crash. She had saved Sofia. She saved her every day, just by breathing. Just by existing. The fact that someone as perfectly wonderful as Arizona even existed - much less loved her - still amazed her. And she knew it always would.

Then, reveling in the feeling of Arizona's arms – of being completely surrounded by her, engulfed by her, enveloped by her - Callie released a contented sigh, deciding,

"But, _fine_. If you keep saving me, I'll keep saving you, too. I will always be your remedy. Promise."


	4. Chapter 4

**Reconciliation #4: Adele Edition.**

 **Can't Let Go.**

* * *

 **I had trouble with this one, y'all. If you read it, please interact with me and let me know what you think! Thoughtful reviews make for a happy writer!**

* * *

It was a note that made Callie miss Arizona. An old, crumpled note. One she'd never seen before, and one that tore her heart to pieces.

 _Callie_ , it read.

 _You are the only woman I want. You are the only woman I ever_ want _to want._

 _I meant what I said on Day 29 and 30, and I still mean it on Day 47. I wish you still trusted me when I say those words._

 _I love you, and I'm never going to stop. But I hope that, whatever happiness you're searching for, you find._

 _-Arizona_

It had made Callie fall to the floor. Well, not fall so much as crumble. And she wasn't even sure why. Arizona had assured Callie she loved her countless times, but seeing the words in writing was different. Seeing them _in that moment_ was different. Seeing the assurance that, at least at the beginning of the divorce, Arizona was _certain_ that her love would remain was...different.

What was also different was that, instinctually, Callie believed those words. She realized that – whether consciously or not – she hadn't believed Arizona's "I love yous" for a long time. For a long time, to Callie, the words had seemed like a desperate apology or plea to stay. What more could they have been?

Arizona had cheated. _You don't destroy the person you love_. And, yet, Arizona had destroyed Callie.

So, for a long time, Callie realized that she hadn't believed those words. And, apparently, Arizona had known that.

But, in that moment, Callie believed them. She wanted to believe them.

Because she was certain that she still loved Arizona. Even with Heather and Penny, Callie had always felt those butterflies – with wings sharp as knives – cut through her stomach whenever she saw Arizona's face. And she was familiar enough with the butterflies and her own body to know that they meant something:

That, no matter how hard she had tried, her love for Arizona hadn't dissipated. Not in the slightest.

And, with the clarity that two years of individual healing had provided her, Callie found that – after everything – she knew that Arizona had been telling the truth when she'd said she'd loved her.

Arizona had loved her. More than anyone else had loved Callie before, and more than anyone had loved her since.

Arizona had loved her. Fully, entirely, completely, selflessly, and generously.

Until the plane crash, anyway. Until the amputation. Until the resentment that followed. Until she'd sought to hurt Callie the way she'd hurt.

But, still. Arizona had been honest when she'd said she'd loved Callie. So, maybe, she also had been honest when she'd written that note. Maybe, she had been honest when she'd sworn she would love Callie and never stop.

Maybe, she hadn't stopped.

* * *

"April!" Callie ran through the hallway, hurrying to catch up to Arizona's best friend.

She needed some answers. Immediately. Because she had just heard Arizona and Richard, of all people, talking about going to Wildrose – a notable _lesbian_ bar – that evening. And it was throwing her off. Big time.

Because, first: Why was Arizona going to a lesbian bar with her married ex-boss and senior general surgeon in his sixties? And, second, if Arizona did, in fact, still love her, why was she going out to a lesbian bar, anyway?

She needed some answers. Fast.

April turned to face her, offering a friendly smile. "Oh, hey, Callie," she greeted. "How are you?"

"I need to talk to you." Slightly out of breath, Callie stopped in front of the shorter woman.

"Uhh…" April began, looking around her. She had a lot to do, and frankly, Callie had always made her a little nervous.

"Why is Arizona going to Wildrose tonight?" Callie demanded.

"I, uh…" April paused. "I didn't know she w-"

"And why is she going with Webber? You won't go with her?" Callie crossed her arms.

"Did you…Did you want me to?"

"No!" Callie snapped. "I want to know if she's been with anyone."

Arizona pointed down the hall, towards _anything_ else. She didn't like being caught in the middle of things. "I should probabl-"

"Kepner!" Callie growled.

April jumped, and Callie worked at softening her voice. She took a deep breath. "Can you just tell me…" She sighed. "If she's _been_ with anyone?"

April shook her head and, exasperated, Callie groaned. "Why not?" Why couldn't April tell her? It was a simple question.

"She hasn't been with anyone," April verbalized in response. "Not that she's told me about. And she would tell me if she had."

Callie exhaled a shocked and, equally, relieved breath. "Okay," she breathed. "Thank you."

April gulped hard, then offered a question of her own: "Why?"

Callie silently met her eyes, deciding whether to answer. Finally: "I found something, and it's making me think about her."

April crossed her arms. "You're wondering if she loves you." It wasn't a question. And Callie noticed – for the first time, maybe – how much April had changed. She was not the same woman she had been all those years ago, when Callie had been pregnant with Sofia. She was more confident. She was fiercer. Fearless.

Callie nodded. _Yes_.

April's reply was cryptic. "You're the only one." And, with that, she walked away.

She left Callie wondering. What did that mean? That Callie was the only one who wondered? Was that because, to everyone else, it was crystal clear that Arizona had moved on? Or was it because, to everyone else, it was clear that she still loved Callie?

Callie wasn't self-aware enough to know what April had meant, but she was going to find out.

She called a sitter to spend the evening with Sofia and decided that _she_ was going to spend the evening at Wildrose. She would be there for however long it took. She just needed to talk to Arizona. She needed to get some answers.

She needed to tell the truth. That, even if Arizona had stopped loving her, Callie still loved Arizona.

She needed to tell Arizona that she'd forgiven her. She'd healed – once and for all.

And that she'd found happiness on her own. But she wanted _more_. She wanted the happiness that only Arizona could provide. The happiness that had always come with loving Arizona and knowing that Arizona loved her back.

The happiness she had missed, for longer than the two years they'd been apart.

Callie and Arizona had barely exchanged real, honest words since their last couple's therapy session, but in that moment, Callie had a lot to say.

And she was going to say it.

* * *

Arizona had become Wildrose's biggest customer. Not because of the women – though, certainly, she didn't mind flirting.

But no. She liked Wildrose for the cheap alcohol, the greasy food, and – believe it or not – the trivia. With Richard Webber by her side, she had learned to enjoy it. She couldn't help it. By nature, she was competitive, and with Richard's vast, seemingly endless knowledge, they had won Trivia Night nearly every time they played.

It was addicting. It kept them coming back, again and again. It was also comforting.

Even over two years after the divorce, Arizona still found herself lonely on the nights Callie had Sofia. She missed her little family, even then.

And Richard helped. He knew what it was like to cheat on someone. He knew what it was like to lose someone. He knew what it was like to regret that loss.

So Arizona had become Wildrose's biggest customer. Not because of the women, but because of the trivia, and the good company, and the familiarity of winning.

She liked it. It made her happy. It made her feel as if she wasn't missing something. Something as crucial to her as her blood, and bones, and brain.

Love.

Particularly, Callie's love. That was what she longed for. Callie's love in return. And her forgiveness.

Arizona had forgiven, but she understood that it might be harder, for Callie. With a persistent stabbing in her heart, she understood that Callie might never be able to forgive her entirely.

So Trivia Night helped. It was at least a distraction from the love she felt for her ex-wife.

And trivia was exactly what she and Richard were laughing about, when he suddenly stopped, eyes bulging.

"What?" Arizona worried, beginning to turn to look behind at whatever Webber had seen.

"Wait!" he warned. "Don't turn around."

Arizona laughed, ignoring him as she continued to turn her head.

"It's Torres!" he whisper-yelled conspiratorially.

She gaped. " _What_?"

"Torres!" he repeated. "She just walked inside." Unlike Arizona, however, who was only shocked, Webber was also pleased. Only he knew how much Arizona still loved Callie, and he was good enough at reading people to know that Callie wasn't there looking for women.

She was looking for one woman: Arizona.

"What is she doing here?!" Arizona whisper-hissed, using all her self-control not to turn and look at the woman she loved.

Webber looked up, inadvertently meeting brown eyes. He watched as Callie began heading towards them, with purpose.

"Looking for you, it seems."

Arizona's eyes bulged. What was she supposed to do with _that_? She knew that she loved Callie and always would, but she also acknowledged that it might not be enough. She had cheated.

She had just…been so resentful of the woman she loved. And, then, so had Callie. And it had ruined them.

"I'm gonna go." Webber hitched his thumb towards the door, grabbing his jacket to hurry off.

"Richard! Wait!" Arizona panicked. "What do I do?"

Webber sighed in sympathy, then placed a fatherly hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "Just hear her out and tell her the truth. The rest will come easy."

Before Arizona could even ask for – beg for – more advice, he was gone. And Callie had taken his place.

"Hi."

"Hi." Arizona gulped. Callie looked good. Though, in truth, she always did. Still, those days, it was rare that Arizona got to see her ex-wife in street clothes, and she delighted in the sight.

Callie just stood there – stunned into silence – as she freely explored her ex-wife's face, content just to look at it. It was rare to even sit so close to her, anymore.

"You here to pick up girls?" Arizona finally joked awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. She felt her hair standing on end. She felt her entire self buzzing with a definite energy, one that was oddly familiar and definitely unnerving.

Callie chuckled, shaking her head. "No. Are you?"

Arizona pursed her lips. "No." She didn't want any girls. Just one. She only wanted her wife back.

"Actually," Callie began truthfully, hesitantly meeting endless blue eyes. "I was hoping to talk to you."

Arizona felt her heart take off in her chest and, slowly, Callie pulled a slip of paper from her coat pocket. "About this."

She set it on the counter, and Arizona looked down.

 _Callie_ , it read.

 _You are the only woman I want. You are the only woman I ever_ want _to want._

 _I meant what I said on Day 29 and 30, and I still mean it on Day 47. I wish you still trusted me when I say those words._

 _I love you, and I'm never going to stop. But I hope that, whatever happiness you're searching for, you find._

 _-Arizona_

She knew that note. She'd written it while extracting all _her_ things from _their_ old house, over two years before. She still remembered how hard it had been to write, with a lump in her throat.

She had felt hopeless. She hadn't been able to let go, and Callie had. And Callie had continued to show it – how much she had let go – while Arizona had continued loving Callie, and no one else.

She couldn't believe Callie had found the note. She had figured she her ex had discovered it long before. And, equally, she had figured she would never find it.

But she'd found it. And now there she was.

Slowly, Arizona lifted her head, meeting deep brown eyes. "Are you mad?" she worried.

Proud shoulders drooped as Callie dissolved into her ex-wife's qualms. "No," she soothed. "How could I be?"

Arizona shrugged helplessly. "I don't know!" she defended. "It was after the divorce! I didn't have a right to-"

"To love me?" Callie interrupted.

Arizona swallowed. Hard. It wasn't that. Not quite. She knew that no one could help who they loved.

It was more that she felt like she didn't have the right to _tell_ Callie about that love. About how little she could let go. She alone hadn't caused the downfall of their marriage, but she had certainly been an active participant.

Callie had tried to protect her, and Arizona had hurt her in return. She had broken her promise. She had broken her _vows_. How could she have asked the woman she loved to take her back, even while never feeling particularly apologetic? How could she have asked Callie to keep trying, when it was clear that resentment – on both ends – was still torturing them with its twitching tongues?

She couldn't have. She loved Callie, and so she wanted Callie to be happy. With or without her.

It hurt. It hurt daily, hourly, minutely. But it was love. Love was selfless. And she, in particular, owed Callie at least that.

Arizona sighed. "To tell you. To think that – after everything – it was still enough."

Callie nodded. "Yeah," she exhaled. "It wasn't. I had all the love in the world for you, and it still wasn't enough. It didn't take away the hurt."

Arizona took a deep breath. Inhaling, exhaling, trying to keep breathing.

"You said you were never going to stop," Callie pressed. "Did you mean it? Do you still?" she began. "Love me?"

Arizona raised her eyebrows incredulously. What Callie kidding? How could she even ask that question? Arizona had said she would never stop, and she had meant it. She couldn't let go. Ever.

Callie waited in silence, and finally, Arizona nodded in affirmation.

"I love you with all my heart."

Callie's expression fell right off her face as it bleached white at unexpected words. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it hadn't been _that_. "You meant it," she breathed. The words were halfway between a question and a statement, as if she knew the truth, but didn't quite believe it.

Arizona furrowed her brows. People surrounded her, but all she saw was Callie. In that moment, there was nothing else. "Callie, what do you mean, I 'meant it'?" She pushed back. "There's no did-I-mean-it-or-didn't-I. I love you. It's a way of being."

Callie's eyes widened.

"It's a facet of me. I'm a surgeon, and I love you. I'm a lesbian, and I love you. I have blue eyes and love you. I'm disabled and love you. I cheated and love you. I love Sofia, and I love you." She took a deep breath, caressing Callie's soft face with her eyes. "Love just is," she explained. "I just am. And I just _am_ in love with you. Like I've always been, and continue to be. Constantly." With each word she spoke, her heart began to thrum faster and faster in her chest. And, with the last word, her voice cracked. She needed to run. It wasn't fair for Callie to make her remember after so long.

Not that she could ever forget.

Still, she needed to run. She couldn't face the incoming rejection. She was a plane and needed to fly far, far away.

"I meant it, Callie," Arizona repeated, slipping on her coat and grabbing her purse to go. She had meant it, and that was all she knew. There was no reason, or explanation, or answer in the name of love.

No solutions, either.

Callie's eyes widened in alarm as she watched the woman she loved prepare to go. Why was Arizona so desperate to escape her?

Arizona stood up. "I mean it," she vowed. "More than I've ever meant anything." And, with that, she headed out - not towards the cold air outside, but to the back, towards the bathroom. She knew that there was no way she could drive with her blurred eyes. She saw nothing but grief. Grief over what she'd lost.

Again.

Callie only needed a moment of pause to decide her next step. Then, her legs were moving towards the bathroom, and she had no choice but to follow.

She wanted to follow.

Gently, she turned the knob and slipped inside the yellowed bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Swallowing hard in preparation, she turned to Arizona. The blonde was leaning over the long counter of sinks, attempting to slow her breathing with closed eyes.

"Please don't run."

Arizona turned to face her. She had no choice. She had said those words during a time of childlike fear, and now, Callie had repeated them.

It was a plea for a truce. To stay. To talk. To listen.

So, softening her features, Arizona prepared to listen.

How could she explain it?: how she couldn't let go, either. "I didn't seek you out just to make things harder for you," Callie promised.

Arizona's eyes stayed fixed on hers, unblinking.

"And I know what you meant about 'meaning it,'" Callie continued solemnly. "Like love is just a part of you. You love me. You just do."

Arizona nodded. _Exactly_.

"Just like I love you." She helplessly raised her shoulders towards her neck. "I just do."

Arizona's heart sped up in her chest. Did Callie mean it? "Right," she mouthed.

"And I don't have a choice whether I do or don't. But I still choose you." She stepped towards Arizona, desperately breathing in the air that was so close to the woman she loved. It felt somewhat intimate that they shared it.

Still, a few feet separated them.

"I cheated," Arizona whispered meekly. She had cheated. She hadn't felt all that apologetic about it, either. Not until she had learned how much Callie had sacrificed for her to be okay after the crash. Not until she had realized how wrong her decision had truly been.

"I know," Callie nodded. In return, she offered, "I cut off your leg." An eye for an eye.

Arizona shook her head, unwilling to let Callie accept the blame for the amputation for any longer. "You saved my life. And you kept saving it, every day after. Just by being there."

Callie offered a poignant smile. "You saved mine, too," she breathed. "By being there. By _living_." She relished looking into Arizona's bright, stormy eyes that always managed to ground her when she felt the rest of the world exploding. "And then you cheated. But you've been making amends ever since."

Arizona cocked her head. " _How_?" She hadn't done as much as she should have. She hadn't been sincere in her apologies. She hadn't made it clear how entirely she loved Callie still. And how entirely she'd messed up.

"April said you haven't been with anyone," Callie explained. She remembered, "You said you 'didn't need much'-"

"Again," Arizona gulped. "I meant it." She had said _I need Sofia, and I need you_ , and she had meant it. She only wanted, and needed, and loved Callie. So she hadn't been with anyone else.

Callie's lips curled up into a smile. "I know you did. Just like I mean it when I say I haven't been able to let go of you. And I don't want to."

"You…don't?" What was Callie saying?

Callie shook her head. "I don't. And I won't. And _you_ won't."

"I won't," Arizona swore, wiping at her tearful eyes. "Now I'm crying," she pouted, offering something between a chuckle and a sob.

And then Callie needed to touch her. Words were no longer enough.

She stepped completely into Arizona's space, wrapping the woman she loved in her arms. She expelled a relieved breath at the way their bodies seemed to fit together perfectly. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt. It was extraordinary.

Callie pulled away, and her big, warm thumbs wiped at wet cheeks. Arizona stroked her hands down a long waist, unable to help herself.

With hot, happy tears stinging her eyes, Callie countered, "We'll cry together."

She realized it wasn't the most romantic of sentiments, but it was _real_. To cry together, to laugh together, to live together, and to die together was all she wanted. Happiness, love, and redamancy with Arizona was all she wanted.

And, finally having it, she was going to appreciate it in full.

With veneration, Arizona traced Callie's body with the palms of her hands, appreciating _her_ in full. She ran her hands over those strong shoulders she loved, shyly meeting loving brown eyes.

Unblinking, Callie looked deep into Arizona's cerulean orbs, losing herself in them. She felt her form seeping into the blonde, creating one physical body of love incarnate.

Arizona's eyes fell onto full, plump lips, and Callie's breath hitched as she watched a tongue line pink lips with desire.

"Arizo-" Before Callie could even finish forming the whimper, Arizona's lips finally covered her own, wrapping themselves around her, tasting her with softness and undeniable need.

As Callie felt her body warm up and vibrate with the simple ecstasy that Arizona's mouth always managed to evoke.

Eagerly, she molded her tongue around the blonde's, stroking it with her own.

Arizona moaned, pulling Callie impossibly closer, mending their hearts and heartache as they became one. They wanted every part of each other: bones, organs, blood, tissues, arteries, veins, and sinews that bound them. And, since they couldn't have it all, they settled for lips and flesh.

"I love you, Calliope," Arizona promised between committed, wet kisses.

Callie pulled away, resting their foreheads together and intimately breathing in the little oxygen Arizona exhaled against her. "I love you, too."

Arizona committed the words to memory. She had ached to hear them again for years, and they had cascaded from Callie's tongue like water. Easily.

"Should we go?" Really, Callie was in no rush. They had a lifetime. But she could certainly think of better places to kiss than the dirty bar bathroom at Wildrose.

Arizona nodded and, hand-in-hand, they walked towards the parking lot, not caring whose car they rode in to get home.

"What are we doing?" Arizona pressed. "Am I going home with you?"

Callie nodded. "Sof is there with Claudia. After we get her, we can go to your place, if you would rathe…"

Arizona shrugged. "It doesn't matter. As long as we're together."

"Right." Callie squeezed her hand. "Because I'm never letting you go again. You're going to have to do surgery one-handed."

Arizona threw back her head and laughed, feeling lighter than she had in years.

Callie sighed contently, loving the sweet music of Arizona's laughter. Shyly, she admitted, "But, seriously. I can't wait to sleep with you again. I missed you." She'd never slept curled around anyone like she had with Arizona. She'd missed being able to protect her, even in sleep.

Remembering the delicious feeling of Callie's arms around her at night, Arizona shuddered. She'd missed it, too. Then, she worried, "If I wake up in the middle of the night tonight and see you, how will I know I'm not dreaming?"

Callie looked thoughtful for a minute, then smiled slyly as she devised a response.

Making a similar leap, Arizona warned, "Don't say it." That only further proved how copacetic they were, even after being apart for so long. She knew exactly what Callie was thinking, and she jokingly rolled her eyes as her lips curled into a knowing grin.

"I have to!" Callie laughed. "It'll make for a good story at our wedding."

Arizona's eyebrows shot up. If this were anyone else, the hastiness of the night – of all that had changed – would have sent her running. To Malawi. But this was Callie. And Arizona wanted to move fast with her. She wanted them to move back into each other. To reunite, in mind, body, and soul. To find their way back home: to each other. "Wedding?"

Callie nodded solemnly, beaming. "I want to be with you every way possible," she confided. "And, again, I want to be able to call you my _wife_."

"Me, too," Arizona exhaled, her voice breathy.

"So…" Callie prompted, swinging their intertwined hands into the air like a school girl during recess. "Ask again."

Arizona huffed, but even so, it was loving. She couldn't believe she had become _this_ woman. Callie had _made_ her this woman: the one who loved babies, the one who loved baby showers, and even the one who loved the cheesiness of her soulmate's sense of humor.

"'How will I know I'm not dreaming?'" Arizona repeated. There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice, but when Callie turned towards her, she immediately sobered, her face softening with love.

Callie turned to her, facing her head-on. She brought two cold, milky hands to her lips, running knobby knuckles against her warm mouth as she memorized their shapes. Finally, she pulled Arizona against her, initiating a meeting of lips.

A hair's breadth away from kissing, Callie winked conspiringly, and Arizona dimpled at their change of roles.

Brushing smooth lips, Callie finally mouthed the words, loving the way Arizona shuddered as she felt them vibrate against her lips.

"I think you'll know."


	5. Chapter 5

**Reconciliation #5: Adele Edition.**

 **River Lea.**

* * *

 **Okay, y'all. I worked on it for twelve hours, but I feel like it got worse with time rather than better (though that might just be because I got tired of it). Hopefully it's not too painful to read!**

 **And also! All of these are merely possible interpretations. Don't get offended, pls.**

 **Let me know what you think!**

* * *

"Hey, DeLuca!" Callie called, hurrying towards the young intern.

DeLuca turned towards her. "Oh, hi, Dr. Torres. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No." Callie shook her head. "Well…" She heaved a deep sigh. "Yes. You can pretend I'm not your boss for two minutes."

DeLuca turned to face her head-on. "What's going on?" he worried.

Callie made a face, a little embarrassed to even pose the question. "I know you live with Dr. Robbins, and I was just wondering…if she brings home women. Often."

DeLuca's eyes widened in surprise, but he forced himself to quickly recover. "Uh…I don't think so, no."

"Like, how often?" Callie rambled on. "Once a month? Once a week? Once…a _night_?" she worried.

DeLuca shook his head. His boss wasn't getting it. Arizona didn't bring women over _ever_. "No," he clarified. "As far as I know, the only women she's ever brought home have been Dr. Kepner and this blind woman named Nicole."

Callie knit her eyebrows together. " _What_?" That had been far from the answer she had expected. It pleased her that Arizona hadn't been with anyone – or at least taken them to _her_ home – in nearly a year, but it also baffled her. It left her wondering: _Why the hell not_?

And – noticing Callie's bewilderment – DeLuca leaned in conspiratorially. "Are we still pretending you're not my boss?"

"Yes," Callie assured him immediately. She was desperate to learn anything her ex-wife's roommate was willing to tell her about Arizona. She wanted to know it all.

He whispered, "Between you and me, I don't think she was looking for a roommate because she couldn't afford a house on her own."

"How do you know?" Callie pressed.

DeLuca licked his lips. "Well, according to my research, I'm pretty sure that she's the best paid surgeon at this hospital, after you. It was Neuro, but Chief Bailey gave Robbins a raise, with all the job offers coming in…"

"Job offers?" Callie balked. How had Arizona never mentioned that to her?

"Oh, yeah," he backpedaled. "From Mass. Gen., Mayo Clinic, Johns Hopkins, UCLA, Cleveland Clinic, the Brigham…" He trailed off. She had gotten offers from all the best hospitals in the country.

" _What_?" Callie balked. "Is she taking any of them?"

"No, no, no," DeLuca quickly assured the white-faced woman. "She just throws them all away, to be honest."

"Oh," Callie exhaled. Arizona wasn't going anywhere. That was good.

"Anyway," he continued. "She does a lot of pro-bono work, but I don't think she needed a roommate because she couldn't afford rent by herself."

"You don't."

DeLuca shook his head. "You still not my boss?" he checked.

Callie just nodded, and the intern released a sympathetic sigh. "I think she just gets lonely when you have Sofia. You know? I think she just misses her family."

Welp, that threw Callie for a loop. She floundered like a fish out of water.

"Oh," she finally articulated. "Okay. Thanks." She was silent for a long moment, regaining her bearings. Then, she cleared her throat. "Thank you for your help, Dr. DeLuca." She gave one short nod, indicating the conversation was over.

DeLuca nodded back in understanding. "Anytime, Dr. Torres."

Even as Callie heard the words, however, she wasn't totally listening. Instead, she wondered why Arizona hadn't seemed to move on. Her ex-wife deserved to lighten up and enjoy being young.

What was Arizona _doing_? Why wasn't she doing more?

Callie wasn't sure. But she couldn't help but feel somewhat comforted by the fact that Arizona hadn't moved on. She was grateful, in fact.

She had thought that her ex-wife had wanted a clear break. To end their marriage. To move on. To heal on her own. To find someone with a spirit more like to her own.

Wasn't that what she had wanted? She had been gung-ho for the thirty day break. She had wanted it to go longer. And it had been easy for her not to talk to Callie. She had been able to resist Callie easily for twenty-nine days, while it had been so hard for Callie to resist Arizona.

So Callie had left. Because they had been stuck in a cycle of hurting and resenting each other, and Arizona hadn't seemed to be able to forgive her for old wounds.

And maybe Callie hadn't been ready to forgive Arizona, either. But she had since. With time, she had forgiven Arizona completely for cheating.

And, then, she wondered if she had made the right decision to leave. Had she done the right thing? Had she read the signs correctly: that Arizona really had wanted to leave herself and had just been too scared? That Arizona had, in reality, been grateful Callie had left? And that was why the blonde hadn't run after her or begged her to stay?

Or had Callie been wrong?

She didn't know. She only knew that her relationship with Penny had ultimately taught her two things:

1\. There was such a thing as second chances.

2\. If Arizona still loved her and if Callie had read the signs wrong, maybe they had another shot. Maybe they could still end up together.

Because Callie still loved Arizona. That had never, ever been in question. And neither had Arizona's love for _her_. What had been in question, however, was whether that love had been enough. Had love alone been enough for Arizona? Callie hadn't thought so. So she had left. She had left because Arizona hadn't been happy.

And Arizona hadn't followed after her. She had only watched Callie go. She had wanted her to go.

That was what Callie had thought. In retrospect, she wasn't so sure.

* * *

And it was that feeling of uncertainty that inspired Callie to invite Arizona over for pizza and beers while Sofia slept over at Zola's. Callie hated sacrificing one of her nights with her daughter, but she felt like she had to. She needed to talk to Arizona, and she worried that, somehow, she would use Sof's presence as an excuse not to, given the opportunity. So she decided it had to be only her and Arizona. Alone.

"The pizza will be here in an hour," Callie offered, moving towards the couch to sit beside the stiff-looking blonde. Part of her wondered why everything was still so awkward between them, almost three years after the divorce. It had never been that way with George – not for long, anyway.

And another part of her knew why everything was different. She still loved Arizona, and – maybe – Arizona still loved her, too. It was also different because, in fact, she still wanted a _life_ with Arizona, given the opportunity. And she knew that there was a tiny, tiny possibility that Arizona felt the same.

And that was a big difference.

Arizona sneaked a look at Callie as she took a small sip of beer. In truth, she had no idea what she was doing there. All she knew was that Callie had invited her over, and she couldn't have said ' _no_.' She hadn't wanted to. How could she have? She was eager to take up any opportunity that involved spending time with the woman she loved. Callie was the woman she would always love.

Still, she was nervous. Why had Callie invited her over? And why was she making an effort to be friends or _something_ after so long? The questions were eating away at Arizona. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Callie?" she prompted.

"Hmm?" Callie's head automatically snapped up, her eyes filled with worry. She really, really hoped Arizona wasn't just going to leave. Callie had a lot to say. And a lot to ask. She wanted answers. Was it possible that Arizona still loved her? That she loved her enough to still want her? That the two of them weren't really over? Or that they didn't have to be?

She really hoped Arizona wasn't going to leave. She couldn't marinate in any of her own internal questions any longer. It was too hard. They kept her up at night.

"Not that this isn't sweet," Arizona began. "But what are we doing?" Really, all she wanted to know were Callie's intentions. Did she want to be friendly? To move forward? Or was she hoping to talk about the past?

Callie sighed, deciding whether to tell Arizona the truth or to wait until after the pizza arrived. She didn't want her ex to run for the door. Still, she owed her an explanation. Right?

So she offered the explanation. "I wanted to talk," she confessed. "About us."

Arizona's eyes widened. _Now_? It was years after the divorce, and they had never talked about it. Why now?

"I just…" Callie paused. "I feel like there are some things we never said. Things we felt but weren't honest about. And, now that so much time has passed…I feel like we at least owe each other some answers. I just want the whole truth. All our thoughts out there."

Slowly, Arizona nodded in understanding. The idea of talking about their past – of what they did right and where they went wrong – made her heart take off in her chest. And not in a good way. Even so, she understood Callie's point. And she had a lot of questions, too. "You know, the details of how everything ended _are_ a little hazy to me," she admitted.

Callie raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Really?" She herself remembered every second of those final thirty days. For better or for worse, she remembered everything.

Arizona shrugged self-consciously. In truth, she still didn't understand _why_ Callie had walked away – not exactly. She didn't understand what had ultimately led to her decision. Had it been the cheating? The sex the night before? Arizona's interest in acquiring a second specialty before having another baby?

Callie looked away from Arizona's intense eyes. She looked down at the bottle of beer nested between her thighs, instead. "You wanted a month-long separation," she reminded her, recounting the story. "A month of totally ignoring each other. So we did that. We tried. And I felt like I couldn't stay away from you, but you could from me."

"I was trying, Callie," Arizona contended. It wasn't as if it had been easy not to talk to Callie, to touch Callie, to _love_ Callie. It had almost killed her. Especially when Callie had kissed her that first time. She had wanted _more_ ; she had wanted to reassure her wife of how much she wanted her and loved her more than anything, but she had been _trying_. She had been trying to follow the rules. And, unfortunately, she knew that Callie likely had believed she had regretted the intimate moment. And Callie couldn't have been more wrong.

"Right," Callie breathed, though she still didn't completely believe her. From what she had seen, Arizona had wanted to end things. Callie had said that _she_ had been the one who had laughed more and enjoyed herself more during their time apart, but really, she'd seen that change in Arizona. _Arizona_ had seemed happier without her. And so, selflessly, Callie had left for her. She had thought it had been what Arizona had wanted.

"And then we broke the rules on Day 29," Arizona continued for Callie. "To spend one final night together." That's what it had been for Callie, right? One last night of sex before walking the plank and plunging into the cold, sexless sea of Divorce?

" _What_?" Callie's eyes snapped up to saddened blues. "No!" Was that what Arizona thought? No. Callie hadn't made a plan to walk away the following evening. She had only realized that it was the right decision when she had walked into that therapist's office for the last time. Really, it had only been when Callie had considered all Arizona's behavior that she had realized her wife had wanted out. And that's why she had left: for Arizona. "Arizona, no," she exhaled hoarsely. "Loving you and getting to love you like _that_ after a month of barely seeing you made me feel...whole again. I didn't want it to be the last night. I wanted to hold you forever."

"But then?" Arizona questioned. Obviously, something major must have changed for Callie to have made the choice to leave. Otherwise, nothing her ex-wife was saying made sense.

"Then I left," Callie replied simply, as if merely stating the fact. As if it hadn't completely destroyed her. "I left, and you didn't come after me."

Callie watched as Arizona's eyebrows furrowed, her nose twitching and her bottom lip becoming entrapped between a set of pearl teeth. She was clearly making sense of unexpected words, her brain working a mile a minute. Finally, she verbalized the only thought she had: "I didn't know you wanted me to."

If she had known, she would have run after Callie. She would have stopped her and demanded more. She would have demanded that they keep trying. But Callie had been done. She had left. And Arizona thought it would have been selfish to stop her from finding freedom. Arizona only had wanted her to be happy.

Callie offered a weak chuckle in return, swallowing back her pain. It didn't matter. Not anymore. She had left to give Arizona the freedom and happiness she had desired. All she had wanted was for the woman she loved to be happy.

" _Callie_ ," Arizona pleaded. She turned towards the taller woman and instinctively placing a gentle palm on her shoulder. She felt her entire body heat up at the sensation of Callie's skin _almost_ touching hers. Only a thin t-shirt separating them.

Callie shivered at the sensation.

"Did you want me to come after you?" Had she known, she would have sprinted after her.

Callie gulped, hesitantly turning to meet curious cerulean eyes. Circumventing the question with the truth, she replied, "I wanted you to be happy." She only wished that Arizona could have been happy with _her_.

With a shuddering breath, she exhaled a long breath. God. Arizona was so close. Callie could practically see the tiny air particles that separated them. She resented them. She wanted to be closer. To touch more of her. To touch all of her, again.

"And that's why I left."

Arizona pulled back, shocked by the words. Callie left so that she could be happy? But…Arizona had thought Callie had left because _she_ had been miserable? She had been unwilling to listen to Arizona's perspective. She had hardly let her speak without interrupting. And she had resented her for wanting to advance her career. "No…" she argued with uncertainty.

Callie turned towards her, suddenly dynamic and eager for her ex-wife to understand. "Arizona, I said that I had laughed more and enjoyed myself more, but it was you. You seemed to be happy during the break, while I just felt…lost. Even when we kissed, you didn't look at me with wonder like you used to. It was like I made you sad. So I figured it was the right thing to do. I figured you wanted out, but you didn't feel like you could just go." That was the truth. The whole truth. Or most of it, anyway.

" _What_?" Arizona gaped. "Why?" She thought she had – for the most part – understood what had happened between them. In that moment, however, she realized that their marriage's downfall had contained more misunderstandings than she ever had even thought possible.

"I don't know!" Callie defended. It had made sense at the time, but since talking to DeLuca, she had felt more and more lost. "After you cheated, you said you only needed me and Sofia, and I figured you just wanted to prove that to me. Whether you wanted me or not. Whether it was true or not."

"It was true." It had been true then, and now, it was truer than ever. The loss of Callie – coupled with the knowledge of just how much Callie had sacrificed for her – had proven once and for all just how much Arizona wanted her. Arizona wanted her and no one else. Callie had been her true love, and since then, Arizona had been unwilling to settle for less.

"I know," Callie admitted. "I talked to DeLuca." Arizona hadn't been with anyone - at least not lately. And that meant something.

Arizona made an attempt to swallow, even though her mouth was suddenly dry. For the sake of being honest, she admitted what she assumed Callie already knew: "I haven't been with anyone since the divorce."

Externally, Callie offered a calm nod. She had assumed so. Internally, however, she wasn't calm in the slightest. The truth felt impossible, and remarkably so. Arizona was someone who was experienced, to say the least. She was someone who had seduced half the women in the hospital before meeting Callie. And she was someone who had slept with two other women _while married._ And, yet, she was also someone who hadn't had sex with even one woman since Callie.

The truth put action behind the words Callie had only ever half believed. _I don't need much. But I need Sofia, and I need you_.

Arizona's lips curled into a cynical smirk. "I guess I'm not as good at moving on as you are," she lamented. She couldn't move on. She had tried and failed again and again while Callie and Penny had made eyes at each other in the cafeteria.

Callie chuckled. That was the furthest thing from the truth. She hadn't moved on. Courageously, she had tried. She had gone on countless dates. She had put herself out there. For a while, she had even found a woman to love in Penny. Ultimately, it hadn't been enough, though. Ultimately, the only person she wanted was the woman she had once called her wife. Arizona.

Noticing Arizona's sorrowful expression, Callie realized that her ex-wife perhaps figured she had been chuckling at _her_. So, quickly, she challenged: "Why do you think I invited you over?"

Arizona paused. She didn't know, anymore. After all, it appeared that nothing had been as it had seemed.

Callie finally assured her, "So I could tell you the truth. That my love for you has only grown since we've been apart. It's in my veins. It's in my blood. And I tried to move on. I thought I had. And, then, I realized that being with her only made me forget how much I missed you." Callie was grateful for the resident, who had taught her a lot about herself. But she didn't love her. Not the way she had always loved Arizona. Not even close.

"That's how I felt about Leah," Arizona empathized. Leah had helped Arizona forget how much she had missed her family during their time apart. She had been nothing more. "I didn't even like her the way you liked Blake. She was just there." It sounded cold, but it was true. She only had wanted Callie.

"Yeah." Callie sighed.

Arizona offered a sad smile. Then, she brought up something she truly _was_ curious about. "You hadn't forgiven me for cheating during therapy." It was a statement, rather than a question. Arizona knew it was the truth. Callie had waved her resentment throughout the small office room, again and again. "How about now?"

"I forgive you," Callie promised. "I realized that, by holding onto that pain, I was hurting myself more than punishing you, anyway." And, since the divorce, she had acknowledged how bad of a place Arizona had been in to make that decision.

Once upon a time, soon after they'd started dating, Arizona had learned that Izzie had been the most important person in George's life. Even during his marriage to Callie. She still remembered Arizona turning towards her with a thoughtful expression post-coitus. Gently running nimble fingers through sweaty black hair, Arizona had called George an idiot – even in death – and had vowed never to cheat on her.

And Callie had believed her, even before knowing how much they would end up meaning to one another. Callie had wholeheartedly believed her.

And, now, Callie acknowledged that Arizona would have kept her vow – and those she made at their wedding – if it hadn't been for the plane crash. Now, she also trusted Arizona enough to believe it would never, ever happen again.

Bravely, she reached for a milky white hand. She wanted the comfort, and she wanted Arizona to have the comfort. She wanted Arizona to know that she meant it.

Entwining their palms and feeling her heart speed up at the simple touch, Callie repeated, "I forgive you."

Arizona squeezed her hand, gratefully swallowing the words she had ached to hear for so long. They were the words she needed to hear to finally forgive herself.

Then, with a voice that was far less sure than usual, Callie intoned, "Did you forgive me? For making the call?"

Arizona's eyes widened. "For saving my life?" she gaped. "Calliope, of course. I'm so grateful for you."

"No, I mean…" Callie rolled her eyes as she attempted to articulate her thoughts. "You were angry afterwards. For a long time. After you cheated, even after the divorce…" she trailed off.

"Over the cut," Arizona clarified. She had only been angry that Callie had made the call at the very beginning. And, then, she had been angry about everything: Alex, Lexie, Mark, Nick, and even Tim. She had been angry with the whole world, and that had included Callie.

With their hands still intertwined, Callie waited with curiosity. She wanted more. She wanted to know everything.

Arizona let out a frustrated huff. It was hard to talk about the thoughts she'd had for so long; in retrospect, they made no sense.

Callie brought their hands down to her own thigh, urging Arizona both to sit closer and to trust her. She wanted them closer, both physically and emotionally. She wanted everything.

Finally, Arizona prompted, "Do you remember that sinkhole accident?"

Callie's eyebrows furrowed as she attempted to recall the past. "The one downtown?" she questioned. "With the couple who got stuck?"

"Yes," Arizona affirmed, hoping Callie would remember its significance. When no light-bulb of understanding seemed to turn on in her ex-wife's head, however, Arizona continued. "You came home that night and told me about how the man couldn't cut off his wife's leg because he'd loved her too much. Even if it meant saving her life, he couldn't make the cut." Again, she waited for Callie's moment of understanding.

And there it was.

"And then you asked if I would ever be able to do it. For you," Callie remembered.

Arizona nodded.

"And I said no," Callie continued. "Because I loved _you_ too much." She remembered. She also remembered Arizona then giving her a loving kiss, joking, _Remind me to never get into a plane crash on a desert island with you_.

Oh, the irony.

"Right," Arizona breathed.

"So you didn't think I loved you enough." Perhaps it was a bit of an overstatement, but Callie figured she was on the right track.

Arizona shrugged helplessly. "A part of me knew you did," she clarified. "But then there was the PTSD. There was the fact that I suddenly _hated_ who I was and how I looked. And then there was the miscarriage, and I felt like my body was turning on me again."

Unable to help herself, Callie moved even closer, feeling their thighs and shoulders kissing. She couldn't help it. Even years after the divorce, she still felt a need to protect Arizona. She had been through so much.

"I was sick, Callie," Arizona reminded her before she continued. "It made me see things wrong. With the miscarriage, I felt like I was letting you down again. First, I was _awful_ to you, then I wasn't ready for sex, then I couldn't have a bab…"

"You've _never_ let me down," Callie swore. "Ever."

"I know that now," Arizona assured her, squeezing a caramel hand. And it was the truth. She had healed. She'd had almost two years of time on her own to heal. "But I just wanted you to know that I wasn't really _me_ when I cheated. It's not something I would have ever been able to do to you under most circumstances. And it's not something that will ever happen again."

"I should have helped you more," Callie regretted. "I should have been more-"

"Stop," Arizona commanded. She took her hand out of Callie's hold and tenderly brought it up to sweep back a lock of black hair. "We both did the best we could. You protected me from the truth, and I tried to hurry and heal for you. We loved each other. As best as we could."

Before Arizona could lower her hand, Callie caught it and brought it up to her lips. She inhaled sweet-smelling ivory skin and placed a soft kiss against it. She murmured the truth. "I _did_ love you. And I still love you."

Arizona felt her entire body shudder, both at the sound of the words and at the feeling of Callie's hot breath on her skin. The past hour certainly had not been she had expected. It had been so much better.

"I love you, too," Arizona promised. She loved Callie more than ever before. And not only more but _better_. They had always loved each other selflessly – their divorce only proved that – but never so _wholly_.

She felt as if she and Callie knew every part of each other – both vices and virtues – and still continued to love each other. To love each other _more_.

As they implored each other's faces for a long moment, they heard a knock on the door.

"Oh! Pizza!" Callie jumped up, heading towards the door while Arizona followed after.

She paid the deliveryman and turned back to face Arizona. "Are you hungry?"

Arizona only stared at her with wonder in her eyes. Instead of answering the question, she repeated, "I love you." The words sounded like music, and she wanted to say them again and again, forever. "And I'm happier with you."

Callie set the box on the counter. "I know," she grinned giddily. "And maybe I shouldn't have ever left," she admitted. "But I'm glad I did." It was only during their separation that they had forgiven each other. It was only then that they had healed and learned what they ultimately wanted.

Each other.

Arizona nodded. It had been hell being part from Callie, but it had also brought them to the present moment. And when Callie vowed _I love you, too_ , Arizona suddenly didn't care about any pain from the past.

She could only think of the present and future, which was looking pretty euphoric.

"I just need to know one thing." Arizona pursed her lips, watching Callie pick up a slice of pizza.

Callie waited.

"I just need to know." Arizona paused. "Am I your…" Girlfriend didn't seem like the right word, but neither did wife. Nothing fit. It was as if her love with Callie now transcended all the labels they'd had before.

Tossing the slice back into the box, Callie didn't hesitate before crossing to the other side of the kitchen island and placing her hands on slim hips. She knew exactly what Arizona was asking. And she knew her answer.

"You're the love of my life."

"Yeah?" Arizona grinned, running her hands over strong shoulders.

Callie offered a little laugh. How could Arizona think she was anything less? Spiritually, they may not have been wives any longer, but Callie knew it was only a matter of time until they renewed their vows. Until then, describing Arizona as the _love of her life_ seemed fitting. So, almost teasingly, she insisted, "Yeah."

"Okay." Arizona countered, her smile impossibly wide and dimples impossibly deep. That label was fine by her. Because Callie was certainly the love of _her_ life. Then and forever. "Good," she chirped, still grinning.

Then, she felt Callie slowly leaning in, closing the distance between them. Arizona licked her lips, tilting her head back to meet Callie halfway. She felt herself shiver in anticipation. She felt her heart swell. They were back. Finally.

"I'm going to kiss you, now," Callie whispered, her warm breath falling over pink lips.

Again: "Good."


	6. Chapter 6

**Reconciliation #6. Adele Edition.**

 **Love In The Dark.**

* * *

It had all started because of Sofia. And – specifically – because of her coat.

As soon as Arizona had walked through the door of her house, she had spotted Sofia's coat. It was puffy, insulated, and the only warm coat she had.

And Arizona had meant to pack it in her bag for Callie's, and apparently, she hadn't. "Damnit," she muttered, grabbing it and heading back towards her car. Unfortunately, sleep would have to wait. She didn't want her baby to get cold.

When she knocked on Callie's door, however, no one answered, even though the familiar car was in the driveway. With the assumption that her family was either upstairs or couldn't hear her, Arizona let herself in with the key Callie had given her.

"Callie?" Arizona prompted once she shut the door behind her. "Sof?"

Silence.

Normally, she might have thought that they were on a walk or at the park, but it was late. It was dark. It was unlikely.

She made her way through the eerily quiet house, wishing it felt less unfamiliar. She inhaled a deep breath and smelled Callie, but that scent wasn't home to her anymore. It couldn't be.

Tiptoeing down the hallway, she peeked into her ex-wife's room. Nothing. No one. Unable to help herself, she walked inside, creeping towards the dresser. Her eyes perused the objects that sat there: a picture frame, a few bills, some personal items. Her hand came up to softly trace the dainty glass bottle of perfume that contained the sweet ambrosia that had always smelled like Heaven. She knew she was snooping, but she couldn't help herself. She opened Callie's antique wooden jewelry box and looked at her collection of earrings, and bracelets, and...

Her heart necklace? It was there. It was certainly neglected – tangled up with other unworn chains – but it was there. Callie hadn't thrown it out. And, as much as she knew it shouldn't have, that meant something to Arizona. It gave her a little hope.

Suddenly: CRASH. A voice. " _ **Damn it**_!" Again: CRASH.

Arizona hurried towards the sound, eager to find her family and make sure that they were okay. Had that been Callie's voice?

She reached the stairwell at the back of the hall and hurried down into the basement. And, there, between two long shelves, was Callie. Sitting on the floor in defeat, fallen boxes all around her.

"Callie?" Arizona worried, hurrying towards her. "Are you okay?"

Brown eyes shot up towards the blonde. " _Arizona_? What are you doing here?" she accused.

"I came to drop off Sof's jacket, but no one answered," Arizona explained. She offered Callie her hand to help her to her feet.

Callie wiped at her tearful eyes, refusing to take the proffered hand. Instead, she stood up on her own. "How long have you been here?"

"Where's Sof?" Arizona deflected, looking around her. Her daughter was missing.

"At a sleepover," Callie sniffled.

Arizona looked down at all the clutter thrown around her ex-wife: a box of baby clothes – far too small for Sofia – a box puking a shattered china-set, and hundreds of scattered old papers and documents. Upon further inspection, she realized that she could read her own handwriting on some of the papers...

Was that one of the drafts of her wedding vows?

"I'm walk you out," Callie verbalized, interrupting Arizona's further snooping.

"I could help you clean u-"

Callie shook her head. Arizona being there – them being alone together – was a bad idea. Most nights, it might have been fine. But she had spent _that_ night spent wallowing over her failed marriage and – more specifically – over Arizona.

So her ex-wife couldn't be there. That would make it too easy for Callie to do something that certainly was _not_ a good idea.

The fact was: she was lonely. She was sad. She missed the lifelong dream she had wanted to live. She missed a genuine and happy life with Arizona. That had been all she had ever wanted and, unfortunately, it hadn't been enough. It still wasn't enough.

"It's fine, Arizona."

Arizona looked up, meeting testy dark eyes. The truth was that she didn't want to leave. Callie looked like she was on the verge of collapse, and all the blonde wanted to do was take care of her. The way she used to. The way she had promised to, once upon a time. "I know. But since I'm already here…" she began, pointedly picking up a pile of scattered papers from the cold linoleum floor.

 _God_ , Callie thought. _She's always so stubborn_. It was so damn endearing that it infuriated her. She knew Arizona would endear her for the rest of their lives, and that simply wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to be left always wanting.

But, forcing the thoughts into the back of her mind, Callie quickly followed suit, picking items up off the floor and throwing most of them into a garbage bag to bring to Goodwill.

She stopped, however, when Arizona lifted something up: the vows she had shared privately the night after their wedding. The sweet, personal, tear-inducing vows that Callie had copied onto nice papyrus and framed.

* * *

 _"I can't believe you're my wife," Arizona marveled._

 _Callie pouted. "You're stalling."_

 _"I'm_ not _," Arizona insisted devotedly, leaning over to give her a kiss. "I really just can't believe it."_

 _Finally, she began, "Calliope Torres…" She paused, her dimples deepening as she stared into wide brown eyes. "God," she laughed. "I really,_ really _can't believe it."_

 _Callie's own smile widened with love, and then, Arizona began reading._

 _"Calliope Iphigenia Torres,_

 _You know I've never been able to see you sad. Even when I first introduced myself at Joe's, all I wanted was to see your smile. And after only a few dates with you, I realized how long I'd been looking for you without even knowing it. I fell in love with you fast – so fast that I didn't want to tell you right away –"_

 _She paused, her eyes flickering up towards Callie's. "And I know you felt the same," she added._

 _Callie twinkled back at her. It was the truth. She had known she had loved Arizona within a month of dating, but she hadn't said anything. George had taught her that it was often better to wait. To protect her heart a little._

 _It was something she had never needed to do with Arizona._

 _"But I knew," Arizona continued. "I knew, and I told your dad even before I told you. I told him I loved you and would protect you because I – just like he raised you to be so strong and_ caring _– my dad raised me to protect the people I love. To be a good man in a storm. So whatever happens, whatever arguments we have, whatever tears we shed, however many times we dislike each other, I will keep loving you every second. I will protect you and take care of your heart. I will make you smile every chance I get. And I will be your good man in a storm for the rest of our lives. I promise."_

* * *

Arizona kept holding up the frame, waiting for an answer. She hoped Callie wasn't going to toss it like everything else, but she prepared herself for the reality. They were divorced, after all. It was a miracle her ex-wife had kept it at all.

"I, um…" Callie held out her hand, softly offering, "I'll take that." She couldn't just throw it out. Not in that moment or ever.

Arizona handed it to Callie, watching as she carefully set it back on the shelf, far from the garbage bag.

She exhaled a sigh of relief. Even if Callie was going to throw it away, she was grateful the brunette was at least tactful enough to wait until after she had left.

They picked up everything else in silence, with Arizona stealing looks at Callie out of the corner of her eye and with Callie doing the same, unbeknownst to either of them.

Callie was sad, and Arizona was there, and she missed her. And that was dangerous. Callie knew that.

Straightening up to face the blonde after she picked up the final few onesies, she offered, "Thanks. For helping, I mean."

Arizona smiled uneasily, nodding, "Sure. Anytime."

They faced each other for one long, awkward moment, and then Arizona decided to be brave, noticing the sad look in Callie's eyes.

"Callie…" she began.

Brown eyes snapped up, fearful of the upcoming words.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly. "You know I'm still here for you. If there's anything I can do to help…"

Callie shook her head. "I'm okay," she promised weakly. "I'll be fine." She would be. One day. Maybe.

Arizona's eyes remained fixed on her, and Callie fidgeted under those watchful blues. The way Arizona always seemed to look _into_ her had never ceased to terrify her. She felt naked and exposed.

She cleared her throat. "I'll, um. I'll walk you upstairs."

Arizona nodded, making her way up the creaky wooden stairs with Callie following close behind.

Upstairs, she reached for the front door. Finally gathering up enough courage to break the uncomfortable silence, she began, "I guess I'll see you-"

"There's one thing," Callie interrupted. _Shit_. What was she doing?

Arizona's mouth shut closed, her eyes widening in expectation.

Callie licked her lips. "There is _one_ thing," she repeated, her voice deepening. "You could do to help."

Arizona felt her heartbeat speed up. She knew that tone of voice. She knew the neediness behind it.

And she knew she needed to run to her car and drive far, far away.

But she didn't.

Instead, in a quiet voice, she prompted, "What can I do?" She was willing to do anything to wipe that mournful expression from her ex-wife's face. Seeing Callie looking so miserable tore her to pieces.

"You can stay," Callie breathed. "I just – I feel bad. So you can stay." She offered up a small, shy smile. "And make me feel good."

Callie was proposing sex. They had hardly touched into two years, and Callie was proposing sex.

Arizona knew she needed to go. She needed to go and drive far, far away. But she didn't.

Instead, she stayed. She had offered to help, after all.

And so she did.

* * *

It was only supposed to happen that one night.

One night of _don't think, just do_. One night of falling back into each other. One night of quickening breaths, ferocious mouths, and thrusting hips.

One night of _fuck, Arizona, yes_ 's and _oh my god, Callie_ 's. One night of primal sex and desire.

The sex wasn't soft. It wasn't sweet. It was wanting and needing, and there was nothing soft about it. It was making use of one another's bodies, not making love.

It was fast. It was hard. It was distant. It was orgasm after thoughtless orgasm, but never a meeting of lips. It was an unspoken rule: close but not _that_ close. Not close enough.

Arizona had understood Callie's unspoken terms almost immediately: her full lips could latch onto Callie's neck, her breast, her swollen bundle of nerves but never onto plump lips. Callie's body was hers for the taking, but she couldn't kiss her.

They brought each other to orgasm again and again but never, ever kissed. Kissing was reserved for the people Callie still cared about, Arizona assumed. Kissing was saved for people who were together. Who loved each other. Whose love hadn't been destroyed by resentment and life's harsh circumstances.

Not being able to taste plump lips destroyed Arizona, but she understood. Callie had long moved on. They were just sex-friends who screwed on lonely nights. Nothing more.

It was only supposed to happen that one night. One night of countless orgasms, of sweat, of buildup, of release, and of falling asleep in their respective beds – their bodies sated and their hearts yearning for so much more.

It was only supposed to happen that one night, until it happened again, a week later. It only happened once a week, at first. Then, once every few days. Then, almost nightly.

After Sofia went to sleep, one of them softly knocked on the other's front door. And the next few hours were bliss.

Orgasm, orgasm, orgasm. Again and again and again. Fast and hard and sweaty. It wasn't romance but momentary catharsis. Neither woman was gentle. Each knew exactly what both she and her ex-wife needed to reach her peak, and fast. Rubbing and thrusting and biting and sucking, again and again and again.

And, then, at Callie's, Arizona offered to go home, and Callie didn't stop her.

And, then, at Arizona's, Callie said she was going home, and she refused to stay.

"You don't have to go," Arizona whispered into the black night, about a month after their sexual trysts first began.

"I should," Callie countered, harshly throwing on her shirt.

"Callie…" Arizona pleaded. She yearned for so much more with her ex-wife. She yearned for the woman she loved – and not just sexually. She wanted every part Callie, not just physically. She wanted every piece. Every thought. Every laugh. Every tear. Just her body wasn't enough. And, often, it just left her feeling more lonely.

But Callie just shook her head. She couldn't stay. She and Arizona were done. Emotionally, anyway, they were done. Even though Callie still loved her, they were done. They had to be. Even if a part of her – a big part – still wanted and needed Arizona.

Because Arizona had only wanted and needed _her_ before when life had gotten tough. And that alone hadn't been enough, and it still wasn't enough. So she and Arizona were done. Even more so in that moment, given that two years had passed, and Arizona had surely moved on. They were done, and Callie couldn't allow those lines to blur by staying and sleeping over.

Arizona was her ex-wife. Her…sex buddy. Nothing more. And no amount or _wanting more_ would change that. It certainly hadn't before. Love alone wasn't enough.

* * *

It was only supposed to happen that one night, but it happened again and again. Night after night, they ended up in bed together. And – with more force each time – Arizona quietly begged for more. More than _just_ sex. More than Callie's lips, fingers, and body.

Her body wasn't enough. She wanted more. She wanted Callie. Every piece.

Collapsing onto the bed, blue eyes locked with black embers. She watched Callie's chest heave in an attempt to inhale oxygen, and a hint of a smile teased Arizona's lips.

Carefully watching her ex-wife from a foot away, Callie's eyebrows furrowed at her altered expression. "What?" she worried self-consciously, noticing her easy smile.

"You're beautiful."

Callie's mouth opened, then shut, then opened again, like a fish under water. She felt her face bleach white. She felt her stomach flutter at the words, and that was the exact opposite of what she wanted. Finally, she gulped, "I should go."

"Stay," Arizona whispered. "Please."

Callie shook her head, desperately scrambling out of Arizona's bed. She couldn't stay there a second longer. All she wanted was to fall into her ex-wife's arms, and that was just so _wrong_. They were done. Arizona was done. Staying would only bring more pain later.

She threw on her shirt, her jeans, and her shoes. Finally, she met the blue eyes that tracked her as she headed for the door.

"Callie…"

"Arizona, I'm trying to be brave," Callie snapped. She just wanted Arizona to keep her eyes off her so she could leave. She needed to leave and drive far, far away. Towards safety. Towards sureness. She took a deep breath, working hard to soften her voice. " _Please_ ," she beseeched. "Stop asking me to stay."

And then she was gone, leaving Arizona in her misery.

It was too hard. All of it. She couldn't love Callie in the dark – not the way she had been trying to, anyway. She couldn't express that love without holding her and kissing her and making love with _care_ rather than brute force alone. She was tired of feeling like they were oceans apart, even with a mere few inches between their lips and no distance between their pulsating bodies. She was tired of feeling like there was so much space between them, even when there wasn't. She was tired of feeling defeated.

And, in her own bed, Callie also was tired of feeling defeated. She was _tired_. Tired of falling apart. Tired of her heart breaking every time she got up to go. She wanted so much more.

She didn't want mutual lust in the dark with Arizona. She wanted love. She wanted a life together.

* * *

"Valentine's Day is a _stupid_ holiday," Arizona pouted, tossing back her glass of wine.

"You said you used to love it," April countered.

"Before I was divorced!" Arizona snarled.

"Why don't you call Callie?" April suggested. "It seems like this whole sex-friend thing is working for you." In truth, it didn't seem it was working _that_ well, though. If it were, she doubted that Arizona would be at Joe's on Valentine's Day, complaining about the holiday.

"It's not!" Arizona slammed down her glass in frustration. "Since the last time, Callie won't stop staring at me. It's been three days, and no words. Just staring, every time she sees me. She hates me."

"Arizona, she doesn't hate you," April argued, rolling her eyes. How was her best friend so clueless?

"She does!" the blonde insisted. "She-"

"Arizona, for God's sake!" April began, her patience lost. "Callie doesn't hate you! She _loves_ you. That's why she stares at you. Because she can't keep her eyes off the woman she loves."

Welp, Arizona never expected having her ass handed to her on a silver platter by April Kepner. Her eyes bulged and her jaw dropped.

"Of course, she's never going to say anything because she doesn't feel like she can! She doesn't think you feel the same, but-"

"But I do," Arizona breathed, her eyes flashing up to meet her best friend's. "I love her. It's her who doesn't want me."

"She _does_ want you," April promised. God, everyone knew that they still loved each other. Except for Callie and Arizona themselves, it seemed.

Arizona shook her head. She wasn't sure that was something she could believe.

"Go tell her how you feel," April urged. "It's worth a shot."

* * *

In the twenty-five steps it took to reach Callie's front door from Arizona's car, she was soaked. The rain had been pouring the entire week, and it showed no signs of letting up. It only continued to rain harder as time went on.

She dialed Callie's number and raised her cellphone up to her ear. She knew they had agreed not to meet that night, but she felt like she needed to see Callie. It was Valentine's Day, and she needed to tell Callie the truth: that she still loved her and wanted everything with her.

Callie picked up the phone. "Arizona?"

"Hi." Arizona shifted on her feet. It was late. She knew that. Still, it didn't stop her from continuing, "I'm outside."

Immediately, she heard steps making their way towards her from inside. She took a step back in preparation, shivering in her drenched clothes.

Callie swung open the door, wearing worn pajamas and no makeup. "What are you doing here?"

Arizona gulped. "I, um. I don't know," she muttered inarticulately. In truth, she _did_ know. She just didn't know how to say the words.

Callie released an exasperated breath but, to Arizona's surprise, she didn't shut the door in her face. Instead, she opened it wider, motioning the shivering blonde inside. "Come in. It's freezing."

Gratefully, Arizona stepped inside. She was in. That was a start.

As soon as the door closed behind them, however, Callie pushed her up against the front door. Her lips latched onto a long neck, her hands coming up to grab a soft waist.

"We…weren't going…to meet up…tonight," Callie vocalized between insistent neck kisses. She reveled in the sweet taste of milky skin, in its smoothness, and in the way she could feel Arizona's pulse jackhammer under her touch.

"I… _uh_ ," Arizona moaned, her hands fisting into thick black hair. This _so_ hadn't been part of her game plan, but she _was_ human and she couldn't completely ignore the physical effect Callie had on her. "I…"

Callie altered her position, shoving her thigh between each of Arizona's.

"God, Callie," Arizona groaned, wanting more than anything to pull Callie's head back and kiss her with everything she had.

Callie ripped off Arizona's shirt, throwing it haphazardly down onto the hardwood floor. She unclasped her bra, leaving her ex-wife half-naked and vulnerable.

"Wait." Arizona pushed against Callie's shoulders, needing space free of distraction.

Callie pulled back, looking like a scolded puppy.

Carefully, Arizona whispered, "I want to talk to you." She knew it was a lot to ask for – especially on Valentine's Day, at 11 o'clock at night, from her ex-wife, but still. She had to try.

Callie shook her head emphatically. She didn't want to talk. Talk had gotten them nowhere in the past. She was tired of talking. She wanted action. She wanted to _do_.

And, well, she wanted to do Arizona.

Because talking would just make her fall in love. Knowing Arizona better would make her fall more in love. She couldn't help it. She was amazed by her and didn't want to be.

Because then she remembered how, as much as she loved Arizona, she couldn't show it. And Arizona didn't share that love. Not anymore.

So sex was easier. Sex was easy. It was good, and it felt good. It was easy. Until it wasn't.

"Come to bed with me, instead." Callie implored darkened blue eyes, daring Arizona to say no.

And, of course, she didn't. "Okay," she nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

Hours later, they collapsed onto the sweat-soaked sheets, their bodies still shaking, their ears still ringing, and their centers still radiating with their blissful simultaneous orgasms from moments before.

Instinctively, they turned to face each other, each woman curling onto her side.

Callie offered a blissed out smile, and Arizona's eyes fell onto her lips.

Callie shuddered at the evident desire and _care_ she saw in Arizona's eyes. She couldn't deny Arizona felt something for her. She didn't know what it was, but she knew there was something there. She could see it. In her eyes. In her soul. Arizona still cared.

Slowly, Arizona moved closer, and she swiped back a wet lock of black hair with her nimble fingers. She moved in closer, closer, closer. Close enough that their naked breasts touched. She felt her nipples harden and her body line with goosebumps at the feeling. She felt herself stop breathing.

And then she brushed Callie's lips with her own.

Callie inhaled a sharp breath, immediately pulling away from her ex-wife. "What are you doing?" she accused. They didn't kiss. Not anymore. Arizona knew that.

"Kissing you," Arizona answered simply. It was all she wanted to do. She just wanted something more than endless sex and pleasure. She wanted something meaningful.

"What?" Callie shook her head. "No. Uh. We don't-"

"We don't _kiss_?" Arizona pressed indignantly. "We used to." She knew she was playing dumb. She knew the unspoken rule. But, suddenly, it just seemed so crazy.

She loved Callie, and yet she couldn't kiss her. Callie loved her, and yet she wouldn't kiss Arizona. They were just wasting away. Wasting time. Wasting their potential at happiness. And for what?

"When we were together!" Callie argued. "When you-"

"When I was in love with you?" Arizona interrupted. "When I assured you that I wanted you and needed you?"

Again, Callie just shook her head. It was no use, rehashing old wounds. She had forgiven Arizona for everything months ago. She had recovered. She had come to terms with loving Arizona but not being able to truly love her – to show her, to tell her, to have her. She had accepted a consolation prize: Penny, at first. Then sex with Arizona, and nothing more.

"Callie," Arizona breathed. "We used to kiss even when we were furious with each other. And, now, we're different people, we're happy, we've forgiven each other, and you won't even let me kiss you during or after sex?"

"Arizona…" Callie warned.

"Callie," Arizona countered. "I..." she paused, as sudden paralyzing fear came over her.

"What?" Callie pressed. As much as she hated herself for it, she was eager to hear Arizona's every thought.

Arizona pursed her lips, weighing her options before finally admitting the truth. "I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you always. Every second."

Callie felt her heart take off in her chest. All she could see, and hear, and smell, and taste was Arizona. She was in her bones. "But you…" She paused, shaking her head. It was too much to take in. The idea of Arizona loving her. It was a possibility Callie had shut down long before.

Arizona hand came up to reverently brush her thumb across a smooth caramel cheek. She sighed in sympathy, needing her ex-wife to understand. "You're good for more than sex, Calliope."

Callie's breath hitched at the words, and hesitantly, she lifted her hand to Arizona's waist, lightly rubbing her skin through the silky sheets.

Reassured by Callie's innocent touch, Arizona impassionedly continued, "It's been two years, and I want us to start over. To love each other." She exhaled a deep breath. "You deserve so much more than just this." She motioned between their bodies. "You deserve all the love I have to give." She loved Callie more than she could comprehend. Her love was all-consuming. But that meant nothing if she couldn't show it and had to keep hiding it away and burying it. She was tired of being afraid. It was time. It was her turn to take a risk for love, so that was what she was doing for Callie. Because Callie deserved it. And she was so, so worth the risk.

The palm of Callie's hand caressed up and down Arizona's ribs as she digested her words: Arizona loved her, just as much as Callie loved Arizona.

Arizona wanted a life with her. Even after two years of divorce and two months of seemingly "mindless" sex, she wanted it all with Callie.

And Callie was certain that she still wanted everything with Arizona.

"I've always been in love with you," Callie explained in return, eager to show just how similarly she felt herself. "I never really stopped, and that's why I wanted this to be strictly sex. I thought you were done, and I didn't want to get hurt."

Arizona shook her head. "I'm can't just be done. Not with you."

Callie offered a small smile. "Yeah," she breathed. "Me neither." How could she be? Arizona was the most brilliant thoughtful, kind, intriguing woman she knew. Sometimes, she could be the most infuriating, too, but ultimately, that just made her love the blonde even more.

Ultimately – as much as she had been pretending otherwise – Arizona was the only person with whom she wanted to spend her life. Arizona was the one for whom she was made, and that had always been true, but especially right then.

They had healed. They had matured. They had forgiven. And all that remained was endless love for each other.

"What does this mean?" Callie questioned. "I mean, we love each other, but what happens now?"

"What do you want to happen?" Arizona prompted. She knew that she wanted Callie – an entire life with her – but she needed to know whether her ex-wife desired the same thing. She needed to know whether – after everything – they were finally on the same page.

"I want you," Callie countered immediately. "To be with you, to live with you, to love with you. Everything."

Listening to the words she had yearned to hear for so long, Arizona briefly closed her eyes, committing them and the moment to memory. Callie wanted her. Callie wanted to be with her, to live with her, to love with her, everything.

She felt it. The reciprocity of love, of care, and of value. They were on equal footing. They were on the same page.

Tightening her grip on Arizona's waist, Callie pushed herself closer, her naked body lightly rubbing against the smaller woman's.

Arizona shivered. She had touched almost every inch of Callie's skin during the last two months, but it felt different right then, given their revelations. She had only touched her sexually before, but at that moment, it was tender.

She brought her hand back up to a caramel face, reminded of her need to express her love and to feel Callie's lips against hers.

"Are you scared at all?" Callie whispered fearfully, her eyes becoming hooded at the sweet sensation of Arizona's thumb rubbing up and down her skin.

"Of us?"

Callie nodded.

Arizona smiled. "I'm terrified," she admitted. "But I also know we'll make it. This time, I won't let you go."

Callie nodded solemnly. She felt exactly the same way. "Not ever," she amended.

"Not ever," Arizona repeated. And then, again, her eyes flitted over those full dark lips.

Callie offered a little smile, no longer blind to the definite proof of just how much Arizona wanted her. And, God, did she feel the same. "I love you," she promised. "And I'm going to kiss you."

Arizona released a long breath, about to let out a playful _finally!_ , but Callie's lips interrupted her before she could. Callie engulfed her senses as soft, insistent lips met her own, fitting together perfectly. Arizona eagerly molded her own to her ex-wife's, parting her lips to gratefully run her tongue along Callie's. The brunette moaned, and Arizona shivered as the sound reverberated against her own mouth. She pulled Callie harder against her, desperate to become one. Fully.

Finally, what felt like a lifetime later, they pulled away – but not far. Baby blues seared into chocolate browns, and then Callie leaned in, placing a kiss on each of Arizona's soft cheeks, on her forehead, on her nose, and finally, on her lips.

Those lips. Thank God she could finally touch them, again. And forever.

Arizona smiled serenely, never feeling more herself than she did in that moment. Callie just…managed to see her. All of her. And love her still. Just as she loved all of Callie.

Arizona looked up at the clock. It was late. So late that it was almost morning. "You going to kick me out of bed, again?" she prompted jokingly. Or, really, half-jokingly. Just because she and Callie had decided to be together didn't mean it began that night, necessarily, did it? She knew they would have to explain their reconciliation to Sofia, after all.

" _No_ ," Callie growled at the mere idea. "Never." She paused, letting her solemn truth sink in. "We should probably sleep, though."

Arizona nodded, her tired eyes closing instinctively.

"Turn around," Callie whispered tenderly, her strong fingers rubbing against Arizona's back. One of the things she had missed most of all had been sleeping with her body curled around the blonde's. She had always loved being able to hold and protect her, even in sleep.

Arizona looked at Callie with surprised wide eyes for a moment, then she turned around to lay on her opposite side. And, as soon as she felt Callie's hot, naked body meld against her own, she closed her eyes.

She reached for a caramel hand, entwining their palms, and she scooted herself impossibly further into Callie's embrace. She was home. Finally.

Callie closed her eyes. "Goodnight."

" _Really_ good night," Arizona corrected, and she felt Callie's hot breath tickle her shoulder as the bigger woman chuckled appreciatively. The night had been good. It had been life-changing.

"Oh, and Callie?" Arizona added.

"Hmm." Callie was close to sleep, and perhaps to the best sleep she had ever experienced. She had never felt more at peace and at home.

Arizona grinned, even as her own eyelids shut with exhaustion. "I love you. Happy Valentine's Day."

* * *

 **Let me know what you think!**


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